From there till Yesterday – Watt (Celluloid Trances)

Trading places with the fading face of the sun, the moon surfaced up the horizon. And in the atonal clucks of an electric radio, music entered the exit points of everywhere. People built bets that night.

He pushed out of the memory of working days, still with their racing clocks. Turning time, and ripping space apart. Frozen in the selfish decision of a chance, was the ice-cold sphere of the heart, knitting a blanket of rescue to leave the rest of the body untouched. Minutes of light spread thru the stark and dark nests of the people. It was much less crowded then he remembered, remembered the crowd he calls strangers.

He zeroed in on a description that had been being tossed about him. They considered him more professional now, they thought he never stopped asking the right questions, and they perfumed his image. In a few questions he had the whole scene drunk on his fingertips, the quiet madness was in semblance to normal nights.

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Published by grumpygorman

I am a Social Worker by day and an artist/writer by night. I use the written word in an attempt to make sense of the secret worlds and dysfunctional dynamics that lurk beneath the facades of our daily interactions. I am not sure how my writing styles are characterized, nor am I overly concerned about it. I am immensely enthusiastic about music and often connect better with songs than I do people. I also have an intense appreciation for quality wines and whiskies, frequently consuming them in excess. I like things that smell good and struggle to manage the symptoms of a life-long relationship with depression. So, why "grumpygorman"? Spend some time here and find out...

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