“What is rebirth, if the ashes still whisper the screams of who you were?”
Yousef stood in fire,
but he was no longer burning.
He was falling
not through space,
but through time
through the marrow of futures not yet lived.
He landed in a world built from ruin.
Not his ruin.
But one to come.
The Future That Might Be
The sky was made of black glass,
reflecting broken…
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to Joseph-hassan09 to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.