Literature
The Muse
The warm spring air filled the place dragging with it the flowers’ petals that were just beginning to bloom out of their buds to welcome the new season of the year that now prevailed over the blue planet.
The loneliness was so real, so intense, and so pitiful that you could even touch it, breaking the air into a thousand pieces with its curtness and coldness.
You were there, standing in front of that huge balcony, resting your left arm on the door’s threshold, looking steadily at the horizon, where the blue in the sky merged with the deep blue of the body of water at which’s coast your house was now resting.
The wind blew