NP's blog

Such afflictions cross the globe that no deity could turn unchanged from it, but there exists beyond that the pains of the inexplicable. Any warrior can handle pain. Any child can suffer a cold. But the wanderer suffers something altogether different. A burning emptiness that no amount of travel can smother. Not booze, nor drugs, nor women can stave the infernal gray that tints every scene not fresh to the eye. A familiar tree, a comfortable bend in the road, a passerby who looks like a friend or bartender or shopkeep you once claimed to know.

Dark and foreboding,
thoughts spill onto the night sky.
These are not my own.