More Prose
Hello everyone!
Here is a short piece I wrote. As usual constructive criticism is great.
Pallid
They say that the afternoon is the least creative time of the day as fresh light flows in through the translucent windows, dulling and turning a sickly shale of yellow. Curtains still with the lack of wind pulling in foreign ideas, and birds go back to their nests after a morning foraging. The full midday sun, distended over the wilting mountains simmers with the exhaustion of heating the world at dawn. The sky, pregnant with ideas, whispers inspiration through seas of static, unable to reach their destination.
Somehow, warm rays sneak up onto the desk, the chair, the floor and eventually the bed where bodies lay in content, full silence, haziness brushed away like the dust on forgotten letters. Footsteps echo across the hallway, but the figures don’t move from their repose, satisfied with the fleeting moment careening into the abyss. Hair slips from shoulder to comforter, a dark splay of threads, illuminated by the descending orb dangling tiredly in the dusk.
Here is a short piece I wrote. As usual constructive criticism is great.
Pallid
They say that the afternoon is the least creative time of the day as fresh light flows in through the translucent windows, dulling and turning a sickly shale of yellow. Curtains still with the lack of wind pulling in foreign ideas, and birds go back to their nests after a morning foraging. The full midday sun, distended over the wilting mountains simmers with the exhaustion of heating the world at dawn. The sky, pregnant with ideas, whispers inspiration through seas of static, unable to reach their destination.
Somehow, warm rays sneak up onto the desk, the chair, the floor and eventually the bed where bodies lay in content, full silence, haziness brushed away like the dust on forgotten letters. Footsteps echo across the hallway, but the figures don’t move from their repose, satisfied with the fleeting moment careening into the abyss. Hair slips from shoulder to comforter, a dark splay of threads, illuminated by the descending orb dangling tiredly in the dusk.