This is a rather odd arrangement isn’t it?
Your face, I’ll probably never know. Or the sound of your voice.
Yet you share your life with the world, brave.
Like your innermost thoughts that no-one else hears: Lea, Brian. I suppose I’ll have to join you, or find the girl who left it here, probably as a lark.
I don’t dare leave my name, so . . . what month is it? May? June?
June. Call me June.
Well, I suppose I shall have to bare my soul now. A heart-to-heart perhaps?
Life is like a butterfly, forever floating away before you can properly see it. A fickle friend who is merely a human convention, but real, ever so real. Relative, but I live:
In each moment?
Another human convention. Is a moment a period of consciousness, or a period of conscious feeling, thought?
My moments tick by too fast, as ever - there’s too little time. Slipping with each tick.
Taking me with it,
And life.
Always too little.
June
@curiosityandthecat
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Notebook Tree
Teen FictionA teenage girl leaves a notebook in a tree. She dares you to write your secrets, dreams, and desires... What would you do? • Contributors: Alex, Grae...
