there's always a glimmer in those
“Yes,” she nodded, ascertaining everything in between, the self-doubt, the forgiveness, how none of them had been in their right minds, clutching and clawing, demonizing and terrorizing. She didn’t speculate again – if it had been truly her, and simply allowed to unfurl and unravel at the slightest insinuation – shrugging too. “Can you think of any good things that happened?” Maybe they could dwell there, instead of in the negatives, chasing down sunshine ramparts, rather than flailing along disastrous intervals. They all knew how heavy each burden had been. Then her hands continued along the basket, winding along towards the peak of the hold itself; getting prepared for the handles, for strong, stalwart bonds in fronds and ferns.
who have been through the dark
MELITA
