You see, these things just happen sometimes, you know? Like one minute you're sitting under a wire, and the next, you're realizing there's an elusive glow trying to catch your attention. It's not the kind of glow you'd find on a drowsy Sunday morning. More like something humming with an endless energy, vibrating gently, begging to be noticed but never committed to reality.
I stumbled upon this glow a while ago, and it whispered things that, quite frankly, made little sense. Abstract shapes danced in my peripheral vision, like friendly ghosts waving from a distance. The stories they told were fragmented echoes, skipping like an old record: "the wires hold secrets..." a voice crackled, fading in and out.
The glow seems to breathe now, as if it's aware of my words. It's a soft glow; I wouldn't call it a light, more like the warmth of an electric ember melted into the nightscape. Sometimes, I wonder what would happen if I reached out, if the glow would cradle my hand or burn it to cinders.