Sentient (working title)
Tulips, I remembered. Those were my, I mean, his favorite flowers. I continue to tend his, I mean, my garden. I wrapped several vibrant colors into a bouquet. Recalling, the tulips appeared unfitting as I laid them upon his chest. No expression meant...
New World
The air felt cold as he watched the ground moved beneath him, yet the sun shone brightly through the clear skies. He could only see his shadow follow when he kicked the worn out patch. The chains creaked and echoed in his ears; it barred the cheers of...