It was Friday night after all….
Yet I knew, like the sun, the dust motes were beyond compare.
A room further within the premises revealed an altogether separate fate, from which I sought to break.
I ran home, ruining my chances with the magicians and the acrobats.
“I’ll wait here for awhile.”
“The sand still runs through my fingers and the taste of a bitter chocolate remains. I can still see the ruffled marigolds floating along the bright wet pavement at dawn.”
“I only know the weight of the stones in my pockets. Everything else is a nauseating blur.”
“Have you seen him since?”
“You might say a thousand meaningful things, but every instant would be repeated.”
That was the best summer of our lives, and we didn’t even know it.
Beam Blood Rock Crystal by Nicholaus Patnaude; digital collage triptych, Feb. 2014
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