It was wednesday and walking the stairway would be easy again, or at least trying would be easy.
The wind carried me.
I got out of bed and ready for moving. Moving was one of the things i was quite keen at.
And the wind keened, too.
The poetry i once read, was now heard by other peoples ears and i was jealous. I hoped myself to be kind and polite. I knew i would be a bad actor. Someone who only wanted to be friends with you if your phone number is the same as a good books isbn. Someone worse than your last friend and you know it but you're just so desperate to give it a try.
Someone completely insentinent.
I would be that someone.
I repeat: I would be that someone.
My feet were missing the summers blue dunes.
Cold and soft.
I felt uncomfortable and the landing steps were feeling the same way.
Which direction is the night coming from?
I will follow.
The wind will blow me away.