Story
“Take my hand,” he whispered. Where are we going? “Shhhh. Close your eyes and trust the to where.” I looked at him with desire, a desire that wells up inside, and a bit of it spills over, out of the eyes, into a cup of tea filling the ocean fully. It was a desire to listen to the quiet whispers. A desire to be guided, to fully commit myself to the journey that was, at that moment, unseen. I looked ahead. The air was painted with a foggy transparent veil. I did not know if the