IRC-Galleria

As the tattooed guy commented the outlook, I decided to stop by for the shorts of the night. Shimmering light was playing with the wind that was gone days ago. I felt the lost soul approaching.

- Inner emptyness, they whispered. No one was listening.

It was a ray of light one glory Sunday morning. Far away, at the bench of the small park down somewhere there, she looked thoroughly through me. My innocence was gone. It never existed, but that one day, the beautiful day, a slight inner wind returned the face under the revealing mask.