friday, the thirteenth – small stone

The river of stones keeps flowing:

“it is friday, the thirteenth. who can ignore it. i heard a man of power speak rubbish and felt ashamed. i cried for the girl who had died in so much suffering and pain, who had met her end in miserable solitude in the cold company of wickedness. i hardly did believe it.”

© 2012 Mariya Koleva

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