Rude Awakening

Where are the most beautiful words in the world?  She wondered sitting in a rickety-old adage.  Splintered wood and rusty nails threatened to sliver her dainty cream hands but answered, “Well, in the world, Darlin’.”  To this she made a slight curl of herself and looked down toward her knees.  “Ah, the rude awakening,” she sighed and slipped further down into the comfort of her cracked nutshell, a dead thing offering nothing she doesn’t already have.

© 2011, Amaya Engleking


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