Novels2Search
A fiction of a writer's writing.
Chapter 58, Ice melting. (...)

Chapter 58, Ice melting. (...)

So like...have you ever stared at ice at the age of 58 and seen it melt slowly?

Me neither, but it does sound like something a fucking weirdo would do, which I imagine would be good in generating views.

What I'm going to do/have done! (Section)

Yeah honestly just feeling weird today as well. Which is code for I've been writing porn.

Things I wrote just for you (And the others here as well!...Section.)

Somewhere in the long stretches of land

You'll find a little man.

With nothing to his name, and little to say.

He spend his days, watching his flame.

Awaiting a traveler like you,

to stumble upon his camp.

And though the food he has is no king's meal,

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And not a single shred of music or wisdom can be found near his camp,

the little man can provide something just as important on the long road.

A moment of company.

A block of ice is melting.

For the drink is hot,

and the ice is cool,

and when something hot and cool touches their temperatures lower or rise to be nearer to one another.

...

The block of ice has now melted,

the drink is warm and sweet.

You take a swig,

and then pass it to your spouse.

You watch as a snail makes its way through your garden.

In a minute it reaches the small ant hill.

And in another it pushes past the army of ants into the safety of grass.

In ten minutes the snail reaches half-way. Its slimy body sliding against your cement walk-way.

Three minutes pass and it reaches grass again.

Another minute passes and it bumps into your garden gnome.

Another ten or so minutes have passed since half-way,

And The snail has reached your fence.

How persistent.

The final section! (Section.)

Small ending. For like the chapter.