rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,


The storm has passed. Sky swept clear of clouds, the gibbous moon's light sets water drops glittering on every leaf and twig. The night goes quiet, the insistent air is cold, and nothing stirs. On the pavement, a streak of silver imperceptibly advances as the shadow of the eaves retreats, exposing the brick porch floor. Each time I go out, the scene is slightly altered. The moon's noon comes just as the number of stars begins to diminish in the paling sky. The empty street revealed waits for its daily users. Not being among them, I let it leave my thoughts for now, and re-enter the warm house. The confined light shows me all the hoarded things and the walls and floor and ceiling which are not possessions any more than are the moon and stars. Rooms are merely places where clocks tick and the hour hand moves as slowly or as fast as a tree's or a roof gable's shadow. I walk through the house. I think nobody's home.

  • Reset Thirty-Five Day Thirteen

    Sunday got very, very wet. It was raining when I went to sleep around eight o'clock in the morning and raining when I got up around four o'clock in…

  • Reset Thirty-Five, Day Twelve

    Saturday was grey anticipation, the cool air expectant, the tentative showers like a tease. Not until nightfall did the rain really begin, and then…

  • Reset Thirty-Five, Day Eleven

    Friday I took another midnight nap, though all I'd intended was to try to straighten out a kink in my back. Lying on my back for a few minutes ought…

  • Post a new comment


    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.