Five minutes, any day. Spent writing—something anything not for anyone anything no edits no outlines no plans no correction, this is where it goes.enjoy.

Wednesday, August 31, 2011

crafted Reality


The cyan blue rays cut through the air as the day begins.  The technicolor blades of grass sway gently in the breeze, and tiny marbles of dew slip down the green bows.  The crystalline clouds burst with light as the pipe-cleaner wind brushes by.
Somewhere, a wind-up bird chirps sing-songily, and a shining pond reflects the blue paper sky above.  Cranes fly through the still air.
The sounds are sharp, and the plush moss of the forest makes a soft bed for the origami creatures resting under the paper-mach√© branches of the oak trees.  They aren’t aware the fluorescent sun had risen, and their sides rise and fall gently in sleep.
Nothing is keeping the life from this day, and slowly, the crafted world begins to wake.
STOP

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