And the past held only this wisdom: that love was a damaging mistake, and its accomplice, hope, a treacherous illusion. And whenever those twin poisonous flowers began to sprout in the parched land of that field, Mariam uprooted them.
And the past held only this wisdom: that love was a damaging mistake, and its accomplice, hope, a treacherous illusion. And whenever those twin poisonous flowers began to sprout in the parched land of that field, Mariam uprooted them.
And suddenly, just like that, hope became knowledge. I was going to win. It was just a matter of when.
Yes, hope is a strange thing. Peace at last. But at what price?
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories