The girl shrugged her shoulders, pulling the coat tighter around her arms. “I don’t know,” she said with both affection and slight irritation in her eyes. “I kind of like my little wilderness.”

The man cocked a wild, speckled eyebrow at the girl. He looked to and from the thick brush that spilled onto her backyard from the dark woods.
“That’s not wilderness, girl. That’s confusion, entanglement, a parasitical madness.”

This is for the brave ones, the seekers, the persisters – in their wild and in their wilder.

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I think thoughts. I write them down.

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