What happened to those who stayed home gazing at the roof while travellers cut through mountain passes to blaze stories?
Perspectives changed on both sides. They were re-imagining and painting the world with a pen, brush, hoofs or wheels.
The Earth sunk in with the burden of some more stories as wheels rode over it.
A few more green shoots pop out.
There is so much to rehash, recycle, and recreate. It hinders fresh growth.
When did he pass through this place the last time?
It does not matter; he embarks on a new journey with new number plates.

this was awesome Reena! A wonderful piece!
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Thank you so much, Carol!
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Great piece of prose, sounds like his journey will be brilliant.
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Hope so 😃
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Brilliant,
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Thanks!
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Reena, I really love this.
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Thank you, Kymber!
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Wow ❤️
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🤗🙏
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An interesting take
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Thanks so much!
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You are welcome 😊
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