brandonbear
"Hand me a wrench, would ya, Sonnie?"
I handed him his wrench, but tentatively. I was still angry with him, and I wanted him to know it.
He stumbled into the darkroom, not exactly sure what he was looking for, but guided by the distinct feeling that he would find something important down here. The red glow diffused throughout the room, enmeshing everything, consuming everything. Photos were strung everywhere, hung on lines crisscrossing the room, tying every wall and every corner to each other.
Print. I watch as the papers begin to flow from the mouth of the printer. Each marred by black ink. It seems a shame, that perfect white stained by the dark of the pitch black ink. Like it's defiled somehow. For a moment, I mourn that loss of innocence, but after a moment, I shake my head and think: for God's sake, it's just paper.
The furnace burned bright with red gold flames, and the heat poured off of it in great quantity. It was a pleasant way to spend a winter evening, here, reading in front of the fireplace. With my cup of hot coca and my trusted winter's blanket right at my side, I couldn't imagine feeling more content.
Walking along the straight path, we're all trying to find our way. But the voices of the woods are so tempting...the wilderness is a siren's song that wants to draw me within it's thicket. I fight the impulse to wander away, but the darkness is so lovely and deep...
The ocean. The endless ocean. It traverses the whole of the planet, its vast surface spreading from the darkness of Africa to the Americas a world a way. It's waters become the clouds and the rain. It nourishes us all. It connects us. We are one with the ocean. We are one with each other.
writing since 2011 · 6 entries · 6 days shown up
each square is a day—lit means B.C. showed up.
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6days written
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the words B.C. reaches for
oceandarknessredfeelingblackinkmomentroomwrenchendlesstraverseswholeplanetvastsurfacespreading