Standing still and waiting for a moment at the minute a bird can fly and inspire me to see the sun sets at that deepest blue of the ocean in my mind.
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What weight of the wind can anchor the depths of my spirit can contain me an energy to spur me into all of the hours of waiting.
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Then this waiting must happen only in the brain where my mind is idle enough to play with a blender of words to be my protein and eat it all while I still wait for what life can make out of my current state.
About the Creator
Midnight
60 seconds… 59 seconds… Time was slipping through his fingers, though he clawed at the falling grains of sand, he could not stop the hourglass from flowing. Around him, the silence was deafening. He had taken over every screen in the command centre, putting the terrible seconds before the terrified eyes of his friends and comrades.
By Alexander McEvoy3 days ago in Fiction
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