Whenever I think of underground, I instinctively think of grim, grey, damp spaces. I see water trickling down, collecting and forming a puddle, and hear droplets create an unpleasant reverberation.

But underground is also a place where the most beautiful of things are born, where beings live a concealed life in beds and burrows, where seeds grow into trees and flowers.

Maybe I will let the other picture dominate…

  • Pakhi


A Sagittarian in love with words...

7 thoughts on “THE OTHER PICTURE

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