Pictorial blethers

By blethers

It is finished

Such a bleak moment, the wind rattling the roof, the sky darkening. The cross at the centre, but all around the distractions of humanity - the inappropriate bustle, the misunderstanding, the heavy breathing of someone nearby. And why is there so much noise? There should be silence, so that I can hear my nerves scream. It is unbearable - and it is over. There is nothing I can do but leave.

The cross remains.

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