Niet makkelijk zo’n 55-woorden-wedstrijd.
and an attempt to turn it into 55 words
Eventually he chooses water. Tired of tides. Next to him some words. For someone. For later.
Purple haired, she looks old. A bicycle drove her this far.
A miracle. She never loved the days herself. But still around.
Shredded words flit like butterflies.
A few hours later…
“Honey, I’m home!”
At least today.