And stars spread out over the town. Over memories that never really happened, but show the truth more clearly. The memories of what would've come out had there not been so many walls in place, if all had been exposed to the trees and mountains of quartz. An ocean, far across in space but close in cortex, far in time but close in memory. The wind is always there, carrying memories of what could have been, what once was the future. And then there is silence, and only a trembing far below. He who has always tried to escape from life may have found that reality has escaped from him, but never in the way an outsider might have feared. And still, dreams stay the course, following the wind, and the heart stays strong, seldom thinking, but creating with its touch fragile sculptures that seem like they will crash any instant, but still have yet to fall. A single star not seen, and yet the power to draw from far away, to walk into the night and come out somewhere different, a new world that is really the same, just seen through a lens of green and turquoise, and a turtle crawls back into the sea and sets off for home.
Hmm... not quite what I was expecting... Anyways, life's been being fun (and interesting), but quite busy. I'm going to try to revise A Quiet Memory tonight, which still is seeking a new title... or I don't know, I might just collapse. Hmm... I feel like I'm missing something important I should be doing... I think I'll go outside for a bit.