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NEW FICTION:
He stood in the moment, in one single moment. He was all fury-glazed eyes, mumbling lips, ripped shirt, bare flexing feet. Imagine the world, he thought. Imagine the world coloured by a twisted soul. Imagine a world spanned between an angel's peach fuzz cheeks and the bitter stumps of their withered feet, a world spanned by a god's sapphire seamless eyes and their rotted down fingers. Imagine the space between a baby's first cry and an old man's last whimper. Imagine that! Imagine it hard and real! The span of space between, always between. The moment, his moment, moved to another, and then another. But fury stayed with him - it was his comfort, his solace, his thing. He kept imagining, and the world kept turning. The twisted soul kept colouring, and his fury kept on pumping.
He stood in the moment, in one single moment. He was all fury-glazed eyes, mumbling lips, ripped shirt, bare flexing feet. Imagine the world, he thought. Imagine the world coloured by a twisted soul. Imagine a world spanned between an angel's peach fuzz cheeks and the bitter stumps of their withered feet, a world spanned by a god's sapphire seamless eyes and their rotted down fingers. Imagine the space between a baby's first cry and an old man's last whimper. Imagine that! Imagine it hard and real! The span of space between, always between. The moment, his moment, moved to another, and then another. But fury stayed with him - it was his comfort, his solace, his thing. He kept imagining, and the world kept turning. The twisted soul kept colouring, and his fury kept on pumping.
