a few hours before the clock stopped winding)

Laughter in your eyes, with the words dying in our throat. We sought for the telltale signs, a point of no return (but not really) while I desperately was just clinging for one last shred of hope. As it said, Pandora held one even after everything left. The sun’s down, gliding after the darkness in the sky, chasing for that elusive dream they assured us was there. After all, no one knew (not even Pandora).

I thought it was an eclipse, or what it might be if someday I’d bound to see it myself. Perhaps that was how we painted glory, rough blazing edges which glowed just long enough for you to see it burn away, black sears emblazoned for eternity. No one went looking. Why would one bid farewell for a sun they believed would shine again, unchanging, in the next day? But the sun’s dying out and there’s no tomorrow (or there was?).

I heard the grass whisper, and the world sing.

Many moments came seconds past.

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