barrow @barrow@queer.garden

Hi, I'm barrow (they/them). Welcome to my wayside rest. This account is mainly for scattering abandoned writing and favoriting pictures of cute folks. I am duty-bound to carry out these tasks eternally. #introductions

I have arrived between two arched columns of dark stone. A sign nearby greets me in my own handwriting: "Welcome Repose". It is raining.

💖

a library made from the insides of books carved hollow to hide things other than knowledge

Looking at an old friend and wondering what they've been up to up there in the sky while the rest of the night carries on with routine and gentler circumstances

Empty glasses sit on a table made from a tree that used to hold a swing. Each reflects the light from the candle in a different pattern. Each waits for a secret to fill it to a particular depth, so that the rim can sing its note and everyone can keep dancing.

The gifts are small, but carry warmth. I make them on an old sewing machine I was given in a dream where I lived in a lighthouse.

crows chattering
councilled conversation
cries crafting concern

I finally arrive at the far gate. Its arch opens out onto a rolling plain. I do not know where next to go. There is no path any more.

I suppose I'll keep walking.

~~~

I wander the space for a while.

The streets are all built, but nothing else is. Stone outlines suggest where the buildings would go, shapes outlined in the soft grass. The only completed project here is the wall, and the gate I can see at the other end.