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181 : Chapter One, Page Three

manuscriptx

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Hello dear, is usually an old lady’s initial offer to be a commissary for her as much as it is for me to look elsewhere, giving her the cold shoulder. Hello to you too ma’am. At least it took attention off the aircraft.
What an endless array of cotton as they rip apart and come back together again along the line. The sky has about as much a louder brilliance as it does acting the part of a river bed, particle air flowing through the emptiness; branching off into a million different pages of space, each one looking more unique than the next, realizing just then that there is no distinguishing night and day. The color only changes once when light hits the air. Cobalt, Persia, Indigo and Sapphire make the Appalachian look ordinary in its pleasure and grace. What is it about change? Black and blue; night and day; evening shade and the dark just before the dust settles in. This afternoon, pleasures are luring. That in turn opens the door. Are they real or are they different? Neither which is a question. Tell me a story. What story do you want to hear? She wanted an explanation. What do they look like, what do they do? She asked. Knowing who they are and having a couple more words to put into place. Anything she said was on demand. Tell me about their relationship, for which there are; slight varying contrasts in present awareness and genuine ideal. In so many ways to tell a person that you are not perfect or special and that you never try to be is indeed something for which apathy can be your guide.
 
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