Strawberry Farm – The Cautionary Tale of a Self-Aware Strawberry

The wind has started to pick up now, and it’s tugging on my stalk. I already feel weak from yesterday’s disinfection, I would’t be surprised if I fell into The Forest at some point today. Don’t think like that, you’ve already made it this far, not long left now. 

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Black Mass

I can handle the slight shiver down my spine as I turn a corner. I don’t mind a second glance at the end of the hallway. I’m all for a skip in my heartbeat when the floorboards shriek below me as I wander downstairs into the darkness.

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Oversky

The stars are dripping onto me from above. We’re all together – the wind, the clouds – yet we all carry on, alone as we ever have been. We are not sad, despondent, or dejected. We are not happy, satisfied, or fulfilled. We just carry on.

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Why?

I don’t know why I cried at Christmas dinner. Under the calm glow of trees and candles, I looked from my empty plate to the people around me; the welcome smell of cooked roasts reminding me of times once lived, yet never forgotten.

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