Brevity, Quill


Weather, stormy and dark, wind gushing through the shattered pane, swinging forth and further the mirror dinged on a mere nail. Yet, his eyes, as if in equilibrium sturdily stared through themselves, encountering numerous ostensible faces of itself. And, just then the nail flung, mirror was on morsels and each fragment (ambition, enigma, joy , anxiety) flew away. While imagination, still stuck in his feet now pigmented deep red,was trying yet to overpower him. Alas, he continued to stare, numb now to the deep and dark nail hole.
He was reality.

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