Not-Light Light
I stare down at each
Glass bead
One Enclosed within the rest
And another
And another
Each one a different color
Different life
A different emotion
Creating shaded
Forms of past life
Unknown
Two inhuman eyes stare
Back at me in the midst of
Orange and black wisps of
Hairlike substance
Grandma told me stories
Of ancient beasts
Who roamed a world on top of
Ours
Under blue skies casting
Light on browned soil
Creating new life of plush green
Rugs
I look down at my rug
My bare toes standing atop
Grey
Lifeless fuzz
And then to the ceiling
My eyes wishing for magic
Light
The type that would turn
My rug green
YOU ARE READING
MUTE
Science FictionPlagued by the knowledge of a fallen past, #239 feels an inexplainable need to tell everyone of the world above. along with #239, #116's family has been passing down stories of a world above with technologies and opportunities beyond imagination...
