The old house

sThe dilapidated old house wore its mold like a cloak of shame. Window long since broken, probably kids that had thrown rocks from the nearest distance that they dare venture,  Shrubbery over grown as if to hide the creepy contents of the inner walls.  And a roof that was now only partially there as if it had winced away from what lay in the floors below. 

Office retreat. 

The Ocean

As I stand and look out over the vast ocean, the sand welcomes my feet to make any impression on it. The coolness of the water lapping at the tops of my feet gives contrast to the warmth below.  My hair dances as if joyful to the salty winds tune.  I bend down and pick up a stone who's smoothness tells me it has been here long enough to have forgotten its sharp edges.  For a time I am entranced in an intimate revelation, as the warm sun kisses my face and I feel one with the universe.

Office retreat.


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