A bewildering presence met with chilled air. Moving rapidly, the fog parts as unkind light shines upon something unseen, yet often noticed. Lost desires tangle well with regret. ‘No one really wants to see such things, though the broken gravitate towards it. Fleeing in the last moment. One touch. Too late. Your story's over. Now—onto the next ending.’
“I asked if you want fries with that.” Last words. Not final thoughts.
Two small explosions—all it takes to end a life.
‘When you fall, I will catch you.’ The words speak of long silence, the likes of which remain reviled & unrivaled. What Nothing might become?
‘Unfettered from the stars, I sit, line in hand, tugging my way through time, loving all—if only for a moment, as I tend to grasp deeply, often holding to the end of time.
‘I’ll have you all. I’ll make you mine.’