So much for the flood of words I thought were building behind the dam of my silence. I have opened the floodgates, given the words permission to flow and what do I find, a drought upon my parched land. The cracked dried earth of my expectation, barren.
"The sea pronounces something, over and over, in a hoarse whisper; I cannot quite make it out." - Annie Dillard
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all writing copyright - My Name is ZING - 2009
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