Never before have the minds of people appeared as volatile to me as the do tonight. All it takes is that little push onto the verge of sanity’s cliff. Just a little shove. Anything else could send you careening into the abyss below.
Moonlight, eerily lights night sky. It bathes the pleasantries of the day in its familiar, yet cool and distant – unfamiliar, unpleasant light. Fingers touching darkness. Creating the shadows. Darkness of the unknown. Fear of the unknown.
Fingers trembling – clutching the pen for certainty. Grappling at words to create the ideas flashing in my mind.
Heartbeat – the sound of life pulsating within me. Ears aware of every sound. Distinguishing between those that belong to the night and those that don’t.
A cool wind sweeps over the scene bathed in the purest of white lights. Why is everything wickedly blue? Supernaturally blue. The traffic of the day has vanished. Traffic of the night whistles into your consciousness. The lost revving of an engine in the distance. The grinding of wheels – dragging – on the ruffled tar surface. Every sound. Every beat. Humming. Breathing! My own?
My mind in every place at once and the same time stuck and lost in the open emptiness spreading and enveloping me. Fervent words scrawled as thoughts rampage my pen.
A clean page has lost its valuable innocence. Now the host to the Joker – teasing, taunting. Who shall bear witness to the riddles but the reader? Who shall volunteer to the solutions but the one with all the answers?
When?
Moonlight, eerily lights night sky. It bathes the pleasantries of the day in its familiar, yet cool and distant – unfamiliar, unpleasant light. Fingers touching darkness. Creating the shadows. Darkness of the unknown. Fear of the unknown.
Fingers trembling – clutching the pen for certainty. Grappling at words to create the ideas flashing in my mind.
Heartbeat – the sound of life pulsating within me. Ears aware of every sound. Distinguishing between those that belong to the night and those that don’t.
A cool wind sweeps over the scene bathed in the purest of white lights. Why is everything wickedly blue? Supernaturally blue. The traffic of the day has vanished. Traffic of the night whistles into your consciousness. The lost revving of an engine in the distance. The grinding of wheels – dragging – on the ruffled tar surface. Every sound. Every beat. Humming. Breathing! My own?
My mind in every place at once and the same time stuck and lost in the open emptiness spreading and enveloping me. Fervent words scrawled as thoughts rampage my pen.
A clean page has lost its valuable innocence. Now the host to the Joker – teasing, taunting. Who shall bear witness to the riddles but the reader? Who shall volunteer to the solutions but the one with all the answers?
When?
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