My brisk stride carries me through the days. The places I walk, they star-shatter into an infinity of cracks as I pass. The nigh-invisible rifts of Everyman upon the world. Buildings, sidewalks, fixtures, all briefly warped by my invisible spiderweb-shearing. But with but a few steps further, the fractures seal themselves closed; like watching a special effects clip in reverse.
But not people.
They're different.
Even after I've gone, and the lesions of fissures have healed themselves closed throughout their bodies, a piece of me remains within them. A cancerous splinter in their memory. Too long in my company leaves a mark both indelible and hateful, and fully disagreeable. I press my personal signet-ring of my presence into the soft wax of their minds. And the longer they know me, the deeper the scar.
1:07 a.m. - 2015-01-22
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