Vermilioncore
life in turmoil
- Joined
- Oct 17, 2019
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And I still remember when I looked to the source of the ticking. The yellowed old clock above the window. I looked, so quickly, as if to catch the clock off guard. As if by glancing without warning, its little hand wouldn’t be quick on its feet and would reveal to me that time is just an illusion. The despair and anguish I felt when I glanced only to see the little hand moving in symphony with the other hands was of the utmost concern. To witness time continuously moving forward, even without an audience to give an applause, was a fright like no other.
A passage from my upcoming story. Only on theinferiorwritings.wordpress.com. Stay tuned.
A passage from my upcoming story. Only on theinferiorwritings.wordpress.com. Stay tuned.
