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Sunday, 4 July 2010

The Write Ways

A fresh page, a seed, a cake mixture waiting to be cooked; another project barely started. It is new, it has no smell of its own, only that generic smell that comes with newness. It will grow into its own in time. It twitches lightly, wanting to move, wanting to live, to breathe life into something greater than itself.

And it will.

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