Mar 02, 2004 18:36
the sky wasn't grey, nor blue. it was full of spring, but windy with winter, standing at the top of the staircase i could see it all, and not be seen. the light changed, the cars collided silently. i blinked. then blinked again, pivoted on the ball of my right slippered toe, and held the bathroom doorjam with white and cold purple fingertips. it was a day where the world went on around me. a day where i was the omnicient narrator to the untold story. a day controlled by the speed of my blinking eyes and the angle of my tilted chin.