5 April 2012


There is time. Like any other. Before the others have woken. Before the postman has come. Before the sun proclaims itself. It is as though I have lifted up a rock and found a wealth of crawling insects, slithering with life, teeming. Existing regardless, existing in the dark, existing under a rock. Where I thought there was no space are whole systems of living. Even in the darkest places.

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