Drowning in pencil shavings and lead, I drag my fingers across my drawing, framed so lightly on the white page in its shades of gray. Somehow, a rock has surfaced in highlights and shadow, deceivingly three-dimensional and rough like the faces of beach-stones as they press their faces against my--bare feet.
Smile, grins the granite, effervescent in the dimming light as twilight seeps past the curtains and into the Cave with a white-blue glow: preceding the stars.
And in the wake of another exhale, the dusted lead shifts from the page and into my nose. A sneeze breaks the quiet and the lilting voices of soft jazz seem ... capricious.
But when the dust settles and I blink my eyes open again, the lashes that giggle are soft on my cheeks and the drawing before me seems familiar--unique.
Unearthly clouds lift from around the Cave and I thought I heard something in the long-shadowed trees. Ah, no, I chuckle: it was me. My heart rustles through leaves and into the purple sky, bled velvet into clairvoyant night.
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