Sunday, April 25, 2010

Story | Chimneystack Road

The sunrise shoots eye-glaring light into the awakening world.

Trees masked. Numerous arms casting their soft darkened shadows onto the green.

A child banged on a building sign pole. Creation of Clear pure tones, echoing withing the appeared to be harsh and cold metal tube.

First day of ballet flats after prolong seasons; the feet are touching the blemishes and scars of the eroded pavement, a souvenir left by the winter.

My stoned heart is slowly chiseling into pieces.

Morning walks had never been so pleasant before.


2010/04/14

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