I stepped through thick scrub into a silence so profound, I worried that I miscalculated the jump and landed in an in-between time. These were the right ruins, where were the ghosts?
Sept. 2053
My journal of big words and pretty pictures
My journal of big words and pretty pictures
I stepped through thick scrub into a silence so profound, I worried that I miscalculated the jump and landed in an in-between time. These were the right ruins, where were the ghosts?
Thin spiral notebook 
sigh, where are the ghosts indeed. But it’s almost hopeful isn’t it? That when you jump and expect to see something, someone , maybe even a thing to resolve, you are greeted with the realization that there is nothing there to haunt you anymore?
that is my wish, that if I ever go back, that there is nothing there to hurt me anymore.
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I’d like a short cut to the in-between time place. I could probably get in some uninterrupted sleep there. Thanks for linking up!
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I enjoyed this one! Nicely done.
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The way you say in-between time, it sounds like a crevice up high in the Himalayas!
Disturbing idea, that!
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Beautiful words to match the exquisite photograph.
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