Silent conversation, discrete insanity. Opportunity knocks before breaking and entering.
Curious inquiries molest the cat. There are more ways than one to skin it, though once one begins, ‘tis a slippery slope.
Prowling suburban stoops for a quick spark of spontaneous inspiration.
We lack the forethought to write down what is yet to come and I fear the phobia more than the focus, which spins on invisible threads.
Arachnophobic acrobatics act as altered forms of subtle grace.
The calm before the storm, the darkness before the dawn, one headlight busted, no windshield wipers, and miles to go before I sleep.
It will take more than luck this time around.
About the Creator
Cassandra Norton
Just
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Notifications are hastily swept aside in endless pursuit of seamless distraction. Social media induced amnesia. The absence shocks, as so many lost chargers cannot. Missing links to the greater consciousness, there is no energy to spare rekindling inner lights, no WiFi connections available, no likes, no friend requests. Eventually, no data and so, this cyclical circuitry leads only to more buffering.
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