seeingstrings

For the first time in his life, this was beauty.  A blinding opaque light streaked with pale blue filled his eyes.  Num pain like the warmth of the noon sun washed over and over his body.  This was home this was familiar this was real.  This was strange this was foreign this was spirit.   Sweat filled Elliot's fist, and he released his grip on the air.  The idea of evaporation seemed like a dimly remembered children's tail.  Wind currents danced with gasses, mating with dust and making rain.  Leaving a salt filled palm, fingers stretched to the point of vibration.  One thought rang through the sounds of this constant motion.   Let go.   "