Easy now.
Feet perched like teetering bricks, stacked on corners/fringes/brinks; plateaus careening with world ends.
Ain't gonna be around much longer with a foundation like that.
Buck wielded his fists back, cocked his chair, and leaned on his knuckle-bones. A see-sawed figure. Buck rocked.
A muddy silence swept through the room. The air was molasses thick and everytime Buck breathed, his life shortened.
He thought today ominous for something grand. He fashioned a window out of his imagination and saw billions of stars and thought, if this were earth... It ended there, but perhaps just for an elongated pause.
No comments:
Post a Comment