Doing it again.
Doing it once more.
However, there will be more after this. Of this I can assure you, but then again you probably already knew that that would be the case.
In that case, I do not know as to why I am saying this at this hour o-f the morning.
I don’t know why, or how, when or where, I do not know and I do not care.
However, that may be a lie, but if it is indeed a lie then it must be lying somewhere in order to lie upward and face outward and look inward toward the rear of the earth.
There was a field of grass and the wind blew through the field, carrying upon it a sound of rustling, but it was not ominous in any sense of the word.
Clouds drifted on by and looking upward was the task of the day.
Lying there, not lying about things and just being able to relax for at least a little bit.
Those were the days and those were the times that were carried on, in the forms of memories that drifted along like the clouds on that very day.
Blue specked with white, or perhaps it was white specked with blue. It was a bit hard to tell and not all of it was distinct, as the memories faded over time, but they were still a treasured thing that would be held dear and near to those who were there to experience the day that was one of relaxation.
Perhaps it was on that particular day that lives went down a different path to what was expected. Perhaps it was just on that particular day that was one of needed rest and relaxation and there was no change at all.
The clouds drifted, the breeze was peasant and sometimes the sounds of insects doing their busy work could be heard.
There was nothing to suggest unpleasantness. There was nothing to suggest terror or pain or sadness.
There was a strong sense of calm, as though the picturesque scene was one that was perfect in every way that it needed to be.
You could close your eyes and drift off with the clouds and be carried away, then open your eyes after a while to reveal that the scene was still as relaxing as it had been prior to the closing of the eyes.
The breeze was cool and gentle, sliding over and around those that were there, staring up at the sky, losing themselves in its grand space and exploring what felt like infinite possibilities.
It was not too last, but at least in those fleeting moments it was something that could stretch eternally, for there was losing oneself in the space and the time and the vast open area and there was a needed peace all around them in those moments.
It could have been lived entirely in, and it could have been fully embraced, but it was not to last.
The time it took to write five-hundred words: 06:45:98
Kind of okay.
Written at work.