When the ringing church bells no longer mark time
When the darting swallows no longer trace lines across the sky
When the savory pastries no longer saturate taste buds
When the flowing water no longer washes away worries
When the boisterous laughter no longer rises from below
Instead
Days are marked by hours
Skies are traced by planes
Taste buds are soured by poison
Worries are washed into a riptide
Laughter is hovering just out of reach
About the Creator
Alyssa Musso
A scientist by trade, but a creative at heart. One novel in progress with too many other ideas taking up space in my head. Some of those ideas end up here.
Instagram: @alyssa.n.mussowrites
My website! https://www.alyssamusso.com/
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