She used to leave the porch light on for me, even on the nights we didn't speak. Especially those nights. I didn't know that was a kind of language. A quiet way of saying: whatever today was, you still have a way home. I…
Anonymous · memory · under a minuteRead →Curated reflections
Every entry, held quietly.
A quiet sanctuary of unhurried thoughts. For the seekers, the survivors, and the silent.
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