Autumn Grass

Submitted by Chris Webster on Sat, 2006/08/19 - 04:06
Red Sorghum

She wept for a long time without feeling much true grief; as she cried, she relived the joys and pleasures of her past, even the suffering and sorrow. The sounds of crying seemed to be a distant musical accompaniment to the beautiful and hideous images appearing and reappearing in her mind. Finally, she mused that human existence is as brief as the life of autumn grass, so what was their to fear from taking chances with your life?


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