| fascination_with | ||
| Borealis |
in a single instant chaos gels if only for that instant the edge of a cliff...not a vertical drop, but rather, a series of rounded mounds...covered in short grasses, and the weeds that leave your legs itching wtih hives.. these small hills, round off, then drop, for ten, sometimes twenty feet, each.. and the wind at the top, is strong enough to pick you up you run a little..arms outstretched, and jump...and the wind carries you a few feet. and here is born the fascination with flying.. wait.. I lost the train of thought. |
040728 |
| ... | ||
| :) | across_the_Universe? | 040728 |