One evening she sat watching the horizon, and wait ... nothing happened. Everything was so still. But she did not know what was waiting. Someone had told him to expect.
Also, remember who said it, but she never asked anything herself. Assumed to be expected. She always waited.
And the wind was wearing down the stones of the mountains, and slowly, layer upon layer of fine powder of rock, was covered.
And she was stone.
And the stones have eternity to wait. One evening
she sat, watching the horizon and wait ... Nothing Happened. Everything was so still. But she did Not Know What Was waiting. Someone Had Told Her That She Should wait. Nor does she remember
Who Said it, But Never Asked anything she herself. She Assumed That She Must wait. She always wait. And the wind
WAS wearing down the stones of the mountains, and slowly, layer upon layer of fine powder of rock, WAS cover. And She Was
stone. And the stones Have
eternity to wait.
Also, remember who said it, but she never asked anything herself. Assumed to be expected. She always waited.
And the wind was wearing down the stones of the mountains, and slowly, layer upon layer of fine powder of rock, was covered.
And she was stone.
And the stones have eternity to wait. One evening
she sat, watching the horizon and wait ... Nothing Happened. Everything was so still. But she did Not Know What Was waiting. Someone Had Told Her That She Should wait. Nor does she remember
Who Said it, But Never Asked anything she herself. She Assumed That She Must wait. She always wait. And the wind
WAS wearing down the stones of the mountains, and slowly, layer upon layer of fine powder of rock, WAS cover. And She Was
stone. And the stones Have
eternity to wait.
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