Wednesday, 5 October 2011

his fingers blurred before my eyes, playing a magnificent improvisation of beauty. the keys pounding in the back of my eyelids as i closed them shut every so slightly. the sound carried me to somewhere i had never been and i felt like i was sailing. ever since then i have always wanted to go sailing, have those misty sea drops cover my face like a blanket and for my fingers to cling onto cold poles of metal. i want to go sailing.

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Dear Lydia,