
Whispering
Mist hung low over the forest floor, clinging to roots and moss like memory. Morning light filtered through the canopy in gentle ribbons, catching in the dew on every leaf.....
Mist hung low over the forest floor, clinging to roots and moss like memory. Morning light filtered through the canopy in gentle ribbons, catching in the dew on every leaf. Somewhere beneath the ancient trees, a girl knelt with her hands pressed to the soil, as if listening. Elira.
Disclaimer: This show may contain expletives, strong language, and mature content for adult listeners, including sexually explicit content and themes of violence. This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to real persons, businesses, places or events is coincidental. This show is not intended to offend or defame any individual, entity, caste, community, race, religion or to denigrate any institution or person, living or dead. Listener's discretion is advised.

