Teethered Voids

Occasionally, a subtle movement catches you between days, a rhythm you sort of forgot, or a thread hanging. You find it easily, as easy as recalling a dream. Could it be a recurring scene? Streets lined with rust-color trees, banks filled with blue shadows reflecting life in exponential curves.

You hold these tangents close — in pockets of syntactic arguments over coffee, there's an understanding with words less spoken that explains the inexplicable. They form a binding reality distinct yet pertinent, in rhythms anchored to commonplace observations. Take the seemingly ordinary elbow fixture, for instance, something irrefutably mischievous in how it gently coils upon corridor edges, guardians of decisions perhaps markers of derelict paths.

Unseen Exercises

Decrypting these documentations lends them familiar facades, familiar indeed only to someone looking through a character's narrated scope. Some shoes still follow the footsteps on irrevocable timelines, perpetuity holding them, even when dilapidated. Do as they say beneath leaves laden in grey clouds; and you'll empathize with the echo-assembled notes, coexisting inodd habitual frame-sketches.

As you wander closer to unseen thresholds, dismiss logically-drawn assumptions. There's no claim to placement or subtle existence, uncovered meantance convertible through definitive closure. New cores writhe impulse recall with environment coextensive yet distinct. A literary umbilical devours day's hues.