They call us Lonely but we’re really just Alone

Yeah – woke up in the morning having dreamt the world away, not realising that it had. Cracks between the floorboards have sucked all the life away. First clues: no power, no water, no gas, no noise of cars swooshing on roads. Birds tweet, sure, but all the peoples are gone and all the people’s things are gone. Of course, there’s this house and this person to observe and catalogue the absences, but when I turn my back on them, the painted walls vanish into the breeze that flows unhindered from the end of the world to here. Yup – the end of the world had arrived here.

How does that make me feel? Like watching a lover disappearing on a train to a far away land. I stand until the tail lights disappear around the bend and as I open my feelings, they take me with them.

Rubbing my hands together I follow the flow of yesterday’s song: bee bop a loo la, she’s my baby.

Echo, and disappear into the mist.



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