Longing for a long moment to come to be shorter,
he demands to know, ‘How long?’ and receives no reply,
just the elongating sound of silence, stretching out, out and stabbing into his
head, his thoughts, his freedom to remain encapsulated and undisturbed,
and his freedom to be momentarily himself,
a freedom now lost forever in an unknowable future.
By Jay Cool, March 2019
Image by nile from Pixabay.com
Published by The Silly-Savvy Salopian
Freelance writer and descendant of the cave dweller and outlaw, Humphrey Kynaston. Banished from Shropshire for my eccentricity, I have made my home in Suffolk. I write poetry, short stories, travel journals, comedy gig reviews and non-fiction articles. My wish is to write my way back into the heart of my birth land. All writing commissions (and free holidays in Shropshire!) considered.
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