“ ...tethered to the ground by quotidian conversation.... the window rosy with anemic November light. ”
... instead of spelling stories you spread silence, which was outside the alphabet.
~ Lauren Slater
I didn't know then that the mind, like the earth, has several layers: a crust, a mantle, a boiling core.
I watch the sky progress through its morning paces, the light turning from rose to saffron as the sun ascends, its rays like ribbons tangling in the tops of trees.
Finally the dawn came, the sky fringed with pink, and the sun bright as a coin in a spill of rising red.