And who says you must wait until time's nearly up to learn how to scream//to learn how to breathe//or to learn how to notice the air around your lungs
Flipping each sheet one by one, he noticed a sparkle from the page he had been working on, which now appeared to be gilded on the edge as well. His eyes widened as he revealed the page, which appeared to be covered in oil-slick except for an outline where his hand and pen had been, which was now a silhouette of plain, off-white paper with a dot of smudged black where the ink had dripped. It bled into the slick and swirled into a mesmerizing, spiraling pattern. He dabbed the page with the paper towel he had been using to clean off his pen to see if the page was wet, but even after smearing and rubbing for a few seconds, the page seemed to be dry as a piece of plain paper could be.
I almost simply used my post from yesterday: On the Backs of Vagabonds but thought that was taking the easy road, so I'll try something new today... Together, we laugh long into the night Between clouds of smoke and half-empty glasses Dreaming of things that could and might Taking a clock and feeding it molasses Tic... Continue Reading →