Clocks ticking; man-made
segments recording unbound
existence unknown.
How does it work?
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.
More stories from Seth Carter and writers in Poets and other communities.
Horizon’s light shrinks… Sad heart, flip my hourglass. Reset, make it last.
By Seth Carter3 years ago in Poets
I thought words arrived as if breathing were easy. Books fooled my young eyes. Now I know better. Stories take patient years.
By Diani Alvarenga6 days ago in Poets
Waking, I Remember I wake before my name arrives, before the story gathers its shoes. Light is already speaking through the thin places of the room.
By Flower InBloomabout 8 hours ago in Poets
There’s a particular kind of exhaustion that comes from doing everything you’re supposed to do and still feeling like you could lose everything at any moment.
By Danielle Katsouros4 days ago in Humans
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.