Ficlets

Light.

Dark.

Raining.

Wind gusting.

Clouds cover the sun.

The cold creeps in through the window.

It reminds me that I need to go out1side sometimes.

So I walk through the deserted urban1 landscape, passing by those places that ghosts2 haunt.

Manifesting in clouds of gnats, rushing1 along paths once filled with thunder and heart2break, happiness and loneliness. I keep3 my own counsel, then.

New friends are found and lost in the same day1. The unprompted generosity and2 kindness of strangers is a welcome change3 from the manipulations and lies that4 occurred there previously. That place: now5 gone from memory.

I have a new place now, a presence. Wher1ever you go, you can see it. It’s the 2intertron that surrounds us and binds us3 these days. You can see me hovering slight4ly above the ground, slightly below the 5clouds in my new house. It’s not physical6 of course, not in the old sense. I could be 7anywhere, but I’m always in the same 8place there. This may be hard to follow.