A series of bridges connects the dozens of cliffs around a grand, corrupt kingdom. The only way one prisoner hopes to escape the castle alive is to leave a trail of flames roaring in her wake.
Settle down and talk to the person you’re with. Both of you have come a long way to be before one another today.
Charles and I are overworked, underappreciated, and exhausted. There’s nothing with us tonight except the emptiness in our hearts and the beauty of the nightly city.
It’s been a long night. The simplicity of your bus ride home is a bit more wonderful than you’d normally realize.
Sylvester isn’t quite sure what happened. One thoughtless motion and then an inkwell was on its side. Now all of this parchment is soaked and everything’s just a huge mess. But wait, it looks like . . . writing? Maybe it means something. Maybe not.
“Back pocket” – I turned my backpack into a satchel / To hide my torn back pocket . . .
“Is this a good title?” – I doubt it / Was that a good opening line? / I doubt it . . .
“Insane” – Would you call me insane / If I mumbled to myself / ‘It’s not real, and you know it’s not real’ . . .