Hunger

What am I hungry for?

The clouds kiss the tops of the cliffs; the air is rich with mist. And I am filled with longing – for what, I’m not sure.

The shadow under the tree is dark now, its leaves too enclosing. I turn my face back to the road – but as I do, I see a cleft in the rocks, a corridor lined with grass and moss, winding back through the cliffs.

And I feel the hunger.

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