Beneath wire trees in the mottled light where clouds skim along the ground and pass through geometries within which densities of absence give way to slow-motion horses he is driving and standing in front of the same car. Moist beads of impact form a mesh across his face. Everything is soft and falling.
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Nano 18. There's a horse farm not far from where I live. When I walk by it late at night it haunts my dreams.
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so lovely and that first sentence in particular is simply breathtaking. *
Nice!
Julie & Christian: Thanks so much for the reads, comments and faves.