This silence is deafening. I walk the floors of this place I call home and feel abandoned. Up the stairs, circle in my room, down the stairs, around the family room - sit down on the couch and turn on the television. I stare aimlessly at pop culture and false prophets, they seep through me like dust to a window screen - collecting, and just passing by.
The clouds are setting in - it looks like a rainstorm as I open the front door. The breeze whisks around me like a large stone on the surf and I feel comforted by the sheer magnitude of their colossal form overhead. They've some story to tell after traveling hundreds of miles collecting, as I have, waiting to share their abundances with a world below. I wonder when they will cry, or if they will, as they creep along the atmosphere in solitude - each one their own brother or sister - cousin or aunt.
The house seems empty and these clouds are my only companion for the time being, so I watch them with glee and hope they stay for a while even if they must pass without sharing their indulgences. I reach for my favorite orange cup and fill it with water, sit down at my computer screen and get lost in infinity. These are the times of my life - but these times are so boring and lonely.
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