Von was the last to rise and he looked like a child awaken from pleasant dreams only to be told to hurry, he was running late for school. He politely listened to Kyra’s update. When she finished, he excused himself; “to think”, he said.

Get out of the boat. Swim. Swim naked. Splash and laugh.

Believe the act, for in the act we see the heart.

Distrust those slippery messengers of language bred from bastards and whores of origins unknown.

White lies know a higher truth.

Unkind words are like thieves, only worse. They steal the most valuable gift we have—time.

We are like color. In light we exist. In twilight we fade. And in darkness, we all but cease to exist (we are born in light—as light fades, the very hue of our lives follows till the curtain of our days rises never more).

Every yes is also a no.

Von slammed his journal shut. “Kyra, I’ve got an idea.”

“On our way Von. Come on Em.” And the two moved like ideas were gold, not the platform for someone’s ego.

Categories: Story, Kyra, Von, Emy, Journal

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