There is an odd scraping sound on the bottom of my shoes, as I stand in one place and the earth shudders and spins beneath me. Life is whisking me forward, spinning me toward, the next phase.

A shift, as they say, is on the horizon. And yet, here I stand, motionless. Moving, but not moving. Everything has changed, but nothing has changed. It is the hot, sticky, sullen sky before lightning breaks and wakes the half-sleepers. Drawing them to the window to peer at the new landscape, fresh turned soil.


4 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Kelsey
    Apr 23, 2012 @ 00:34:39

    I love your writing, Geneva. ❤


  2. Oksana Porteous
    Apr 26, 2012 @ 22:15:25

    Me too!!!!


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