A knife can travel through the world, and love and hatred can be brewed in a pot of wine. Eighty thousand miles across, I feel lonely at night.
The knife at night was black, but the blood on the edge was red. A bloody knife, a person, a bottle of wine, walking on an endless road.
Reader comments
Very exciting, really good,
Very beautiful. Especially wonderful.
Not bad, super pretty
It's very good, with some traces of Cologne, but the writing seems to be a bit lacking. I hope I can improve it and keep working hard.
Very exciting, really good,
Very beautiful. Especially wonderful.
Not bad, super pretty
It's very good, with some traces of Cologne, but the writing seems to be a bit lacking. I hope I can improve it and keep working hard.