Perceptions.

The stars that once adorned my firmament have all but gone, drifted away to the further reaches of the cosmos to become quiet, invisible and unconnected.

First impressions? If I wrote that in a work of fiction it would probably be called ‘lyrical.’ If I write it in a journal it will be deemed melodramatic.

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I was walking along the mud-spattered Mill Lane in a heavy drizzle today, wondering why I’ve always been drawn to the construction of the hangman’s noose. I decided it was a matter of aesthetics and practicality. The hangman’s noose is simple and symmetrical in form, yet its construction is a masterpiece of functional mechanics.

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The cows in the fields were unusually noisy today, and paying me more attention than they normally do. The lane seemed all the emptier for it.

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I’ve discovered a young woman in New York who writes excellently. It’s most unusual for me to be bowled over by somebody else’s fiction. Her The Caternacle Part 1 had me open-mouthed and itching for more. It can be found here if anybody’s interested.