Where do you feel?
Not in the heart. Deeper down than that, someplace less vaulted, someplace made of fire and ash. Where things are sent to be torn apart, broken down, worked on slowly by the blacksmiths. They temper with a strong hand and when it glistens, they sent it up to that lofty place, smiling secretly because they know they did all the work.
So what’s up with the random prompt? You can find out here.
Photo via Christine Mandich.