scripted-vision
Roar. Let it out. Scream all your frustrations, insecurities -- secrets... Into the wind.
All by themselves. Thinking, sitting, waiting. But what for? Ahh - It is what we all wait for...That undiscovered purpose for the tick inside one's chest. Some call it Love.
The ground whispered up to the travelers. Dainty heels, tall boots, worn sneakers. All told their story. And the cold concrete shared of those who had been there before.