Countless neon ivory-and-burgundy stars against a black horizon. The silence of long breaths between two people. A stop at an ominously lit rest area. Rows of perfectly empty vending machines, all powered and without product. An eerie silence punctuated by the hum of one or two halogen streetlamps. In the faded taupe restroom, a large spider building a nest under a nearby sink. Wariness sharpened into the too-fine point of paranoia. It was perhaps time to leave, yesterday.
12:11 a.m. - 2018-09-26
Recent entries:
Beautiful Bubbles - 2018-10-09
Hair-strand of God - 2018-10-09
Slice of Divine - 2018-10-01
No Different - 2018-10-01
Lines-to-Land - 2018-09-26
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