hyumanoido

He is a soul lost, a breathing ghost light, silently throbbing in the deep windings of a dead tree’s stump. Daylight makes it flicker restlessly, threatening it to disperse into an undefined form of existence. In the quiet of the night it feels at peace, calm. There is no fear of the unknown in its inner self, in fact, what it is frightened of are the things caught by eyes and ears and trapped in a conscience ill.