Monday, 28 October 2013

The Crowd Had Always Set...

The crowd had always set themselves apart from her, they milled around in a distant gloom of their flighty, hollow thoughts, and their eyes grasped at each other with desperate desire. Desire that their grey ways would be acknowledged instead as glittering, special, pleasing. She frowned, as her eyes narrowed she suddenly became aware of the weave of their feet, and by extension, their hearts; their endlessly repetitive shuffling, stumbling, connections and repulsions. It was as if they left a smoky trail about themselves, dreary patterns of a rudderless world, too broken to realise they were lost.

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