A Wasted Hour

Everyone’s words started to sound like the low-rumbling grumble of a collapsing foundation. Syllables and consonants globbed together
forming a vibrating bass tone that blended into the background.

All meaning was lost.

The occasional surges in frequency or pitch, the inappropriate laugh or frustrated explanations of numbers and statistics, would startle my senses. My mind would thrust to the surface of the moment, before sinking back into the warm and watery echoes of uncaring presence.

My doodling circled to the corner of the paper, my thoughts walking the labyrinth over and over as I followed the fading ink trail to the precipice of my notebook’s edge.

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One Response to A Wasted Hour

  1. Kat says:

    So descriptive, and yet so succinct, like you chose each word so carefully. I’m right there in the moment.

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