The grass under
my bare feet
is fresh and luscious
I do not dare to look down
what colour it is.
I sit and listen to the emptiness. A circle of light, cast by a source I cannot see, marks the edge of my world.
A gigantic pendulum swings back and forth in a slow, steady rhythm.
It comes and goes. The only company I have, and the only thing that tells me time has not yet stopped for me.
That I may still be alive…
The pendulum’s creased face catches the light as it passes through my world before disappearing in the shadows high above. A soundless moment, then: