
He comes around, amidst the orange fields, with a sly smile veiled under his head gear.
His dark visor, reflecting my dead past- the orange rutted track mixed with deep red.
The present from justice- father’s breaths locked forever and he’s free, riding evermore recklessly.
This post was written in response to Three Line Tales 238. I thank Sonya for hosting this challenge. The challenge was to write three line tale inspired from the picture.
Thank you!
©Aashi D Parekh
nice one!!
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Thanks a lot!
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Anytime!!
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Great take on the prompt
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Thank you🙂
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Always a pleasure 🌼
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Good one ❣️
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Thank you very much😇
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You convey so much in those three lines. Well done 🙂
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Thank you very much 😇💙
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