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Chill hung in the air and in her heart as she observed the frozen landscape.
Only fools and the desperate would be out in this mess.
Leaving her to wonder which one she was. Maybe she was both.
Dead bodies weren’t going to hide themselves, though, so out into the tundra she skied.
When the ground opened up, it swallowed the entire town.
How could such a thing happen without any warning?
Oh, and the hole kept getting bigger and bigger
Leaving an ever-growing scar across the landscape
Everyone was horrified as they turned the next page of Stephen King’s newest book
Clutter rampaged across his mental landscape
Leaving a mess of chaos that scrambled his thoughts
Old ideas mixed with current observations and new connections
Giving him no chance to respond to her questions
Grimacing all he could do was shrug his shoulders
Everything he wanted to say tried to come out at the same time, allowing nothing to escape his lips
Distraught, he knew that job opportunity was lost
Capricious thoughts scatter across his mental landscape
Reason and emotion decorate his headspace with the creative and the banal
Everything coalescing into a morass of possibilities and probabilities
A prime candidate for the existence of a higher purpose
That life is not just reacting to environmental stimuli and hormones
Unless it concerned her smirk
Reducing everything to its most primal place
Especially as she purred, kneading him, keeping him awake
Revealing light streams over the landscape
Abstract shapes resolve into the finite
Dictating reality to manifest yet again
It warmed her heart every time it happened
As the sun slowly eased itself above the threshold of the horizon
The green flash announcing its next jaunt across the sky
Exciting her eyes with the potential of a new chance, a new day
Damaged and melting within a bright-colored landscape
A juxtaposition of reality and imagination
Leaving one breathless between comfort and discomfort
It is a surreal feeling
Crispy fluffy white popped kernels pour out of the kettle
Obscene amounts of liquid butter soon flow over the alabaster landscape slightly seasoned with salt
Releasing that signature smell in the air that screams movie time
Now for the show that is me consuming of this mountain of magnificence
He danced along his mental landscape
Enjoying the infinite possibilities inside his mind
Allowing his imagination to go wild
Determined to escape the reality his meat brain was stuck in
Dramatic undulations littered the moving landscape
Under the constant onslaught of sun and wind
Never the same from minute to minute
Entropy hard at work
Ravages of time and oxidation scarred the urban landscape
Under that dilapidation lies the proud and the mighty
So many, now one with the dust below the decay above
The wind blows red. The bleeding continues.
Image: calendar.artsaltoona.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2018/03/rust.jpg
Stories and photos from Scotland
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