Not for sale.

It’s been some time. Again. Eventually this prisoner in chains will rise from captivity. Through the key hole a small offering escapes; this story ofΒ one hundred words, a dabble with drabble… not for sale. J R Manawa. Exhilarated, accelerated, inebriated on the moment, she spun. The colours, they twirled faster and faster, the dress twisted…