Things are grainy, looking back. I can’t see anything clearly. The colors blend. The pigments dim.
Things are muffled, looking back. My ears did fail to remember. The sounds pulsed out. The sonant’s withdrew.
All that is known now is the comprehension. I felt the feel kick up, then settle just as fast. All I know now is the feel.
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Short Story / Historical Fiction
Short Story / Literary Fiction
Poem / Poetry
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