rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,
rejectomorph
flying_blind

Overcast

I watched clouds gather yesterday evening, and all night the stars have been concealed. Damp steeps a scent from decaying leaves, until the chill night is saturated with the odor of woods in decline. All the insects have at last fallen silent. Very late, a faint play of light here and there on the marbled eastern sky reveals the vain attempts the waning moon makes to show itself. But the clouds will allow no more than this ghost of light to pass. Whatever water the clouds contain they also hoard. No moonlight, no rain, but only this smell of damp trees and soil and leaf mold. I feel as though I'm waiting for dirt to be tossed into a grave.
Subscribe

  • Reset Fifty, Day Fifty-Seven

    Friday evening I thought about disguising myself as a sensible person and fixing dinner at dinner time, but then thought other of it and ended up not…

  • Reset Fifty, Day Fifty-Six

    It seemed like Friday would never get here this week, but now that it's here it's like where the hell did the rest of the week go?. The days drag by…

  • Reset Fifty, Day Fifty-Five

    There's no telling what the hell's gone wrong with time. It's gotten all catawampus on me, and I have no way of telling which when is up. When I woke…

  • Post a new comment

    Error

    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded 

    When you submit the form an invisible reCAPTCHA check will be performed.
    You must follow the Privacy Policy and Google Terms of use.
    Help
  • 0 comments