I feel like I am standing always on the edge of forever, where its cold and dark with distant possibilities twinkling in the far beyond. Alone, and silent, as if waiting for some wonderful miracle or passing meteor where not to many stand, too long.
The other day I thought a moment that life was a session of unknown possibility birthing into undreamed probabilities then passing us like cars in rush hour into realized memories.
I can hear the tick of the clock, chugging its way past noon. Cars whisper past outside. Occasional voices of passersby laughing or chatting. I can hear the claws of the black crows landing on my wooden porch, arguing with each other...probably about which one will have first dibbs. And the tap-click of each letter as I write this. I will spend another day alone, in silence, except maybe for a quick trip to the store for chili and sourdough bread with garlic.