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Microfiction
Sometimes, back home, i'd sit in a coral reef, and listen. They're alive, you know: a reef is both the city and its inhabitants, both the shell they build of themselves and the soft frond-children who sit on their boughs.
They speak as one, they dream as one. Slow, ponderous, yet ever-gentle.
It's difficult to *talk* to them, but listening...
their songs and sighs, though hard to follow,
always seem to talk about just how wonderful creation is.
Countless hearts, awash in awe.
