Cold to the touch and the fingers start a sweat that won't stop with each passing rub between the thinning air caught underneath. Apparitions and the transference or vessels of emotions and thoughts. Now that is what it's like to inhabit the time and space of ghosts and of pasts from the other end of time's spectrum.
Too close on the shoulder with gun powder to sniff for anything less than the slightly uncomfortable. Watching on as the slight changes in temperature move about the house and there's the visage of things such as breathes wafting out into the vacancy of central heating. Or of any heating for that matter.
Quite the drop into the lowering heat sink for a mood to slip stream into that of the scene under the bridge. Shiver and shiver, the quiver is no quicker than the twitter of the killer.
Soon Van - Tuesday, July 3, 2007 - 18:10
*Optional and not kept. Read the privacy policy for more.
