The cliffs

The cliffs march on and on, like a wall above me. I start to wonder what’s up there, above the bright rim of the sky. Perhaps it’s just the lure of the unknown – the wall is stout and tall and unbroken, except for the waterfalls, which thunder through gorges like chimneys, narrow and dark and slick with spray.

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2 comments
  1. It’s very rewarding for meto hear that this has meant something to one of my readers. Thank you for commenting.

  2. Reblogged this on Wandering Aloud and commented:
    This really resonates for me – summing up so much of how I have felt for so long.

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