tiny dragons

The weather made people dance in their fear. I knew I should’ve put those extra miles in this morning. Now I’m unaware, and I hate playing catch up. One would think given my last spill of intention that I would be crushed and wallowing. But that isn’t true. For the first time in a long time, I happen to know exactly what I’m taking about. I’m almost laughing because after all this time under that gaslight, I’m finding things predictable.

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Texan love stories, Christianity, recovery, Bret Marston Hall

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