07.13.06

so tried

The rain has been coming down suddenly, hitting the clay of the roof with its roar, and then silently leaving. I was told once that the sound of the rain on a tin roof was one of the most wonderful things.
We had been walking through a park where fireflies seemed to be carrying some message from the moist woods before fading softly into the darkness again.
There was that first word. Hotaru.
Then it was death and rebirth. Bowls of porcelain white milk and dresses of purple lace. Then it was time devouring the hours.

shi-ou-sama at 3:07 p.m.

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