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The Propeller Seed


Propeller seed

December 28th, 2018. Three days before the new year eve.

It’s still five pm in Lincoln, but the sky outside was already dark like it was eight. Outside and inside were the same. Cold. She had not turned on the heater inside her apartment.

Here what she could find around that time: white snow covered the empty streets and the rooftop of the apartment building, scattered papers and books on the floor, messy blanket on the bed, creased newspapers all over the flower patterned sofa, cinnamon pancakes on a plate with peanut butter jam in the kitchen and a cold water for the coffee in the saucepan.

She was sitting on the sofa and looking straight to a poster of John Lennon and his ‘Imagine’ lyrics. Her mind was blank, but her heart was not. She started to feel as if she was sinking, going down, down, and down.

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