Among the frail flowers he sat putting down ponderings on paper.
A thought stream flowing down upon the paper, hydrating the garden within while the flowers outside bathed in the sun. The sun within was absent from his world. His melancholy disillusioned him from this sunny day as he dwelled in the rainy world within, but also seeking refuge in the comfort of a blank page.
The page was coming alive with words radiating out from themselves and filling a canvas with colour. A scene born into life and developing from infant into a mature adult as details dripped forth from the stream. Soon even he was completely immerse in this new world, a reality rifting the divide between his and the outside. A marvellous creation that he now became lost in, to explore every nave, nook and cranny.
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