Lost
The barren wasteland lay in front of him, blindingly white, devoid of detail, an endless emptiness.
Nearby birds sang silly songs and children played, laughing, crying, oblivious to the lost wanderer just a few moments away.
Downstairs she hummed quietly to herself, love songs from younger more passionate times.
Suddenly before him a shape gradually appeared, at first a mirage he thought, but then no, it was full of detail: tangible, refreshing, taking the form of his lost muse.
The typewriter clattered into action.
Responses to “Lost”
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Recent Comments
- jinksy: Wise man indeed! LOL
- Billy Carter-Smith: Read a lot of your stuff, all very enjoyable. If I’m not missing the point, I think this...
- LegalMist: oooh, I like it…
- LegalMist: hahahaha! good one! (and probably more true than not….)
- Sandra Davies: Wicked picture to go with cowardly (but noirmal, I fear) reaction. Loves the succinicity (if...
- jinksy: Wise man indeed! LOL
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Welcome back, indeed…
Were you on haitus, or is it writers block no more?!
I don’t know if I’m back. I just haven’t felt like writing at all of late, preferring to do lots of reading on the train to/from work.
Glad you are back.