ClaraCumberbatch
Today's the day. The twelfth.
I walked up the steps to the graveyard, like I did every year on this day. Slowly, heavily.
The pine tree was all I could see from my bedroom window. That and the stars. I used to sit up in bed and dream about anything and everything. Because it all seemed so possible, when nothing but stars and the silhouette of a tall tree, that stood in the distance was there to cloud my vision.
writing since 2013 · 2 entries · 2 days shown up
each square is a day—lit means Clara showed up.
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the words Clara reaches for
treestarspinebedroomwindowsitbeddreampossiblesilhouettetallstooddistancecloudvisiontoday's