Phosphorescense instant: soon, the amarant glimmering in our fingers turns into a bouquet of pains. Every each one of them as razor-sharp as our fears of them, running amuck on the very veins that, moments before, were striking our skin from beneath.
Akin to that, is the wind-drag when flutes and trumpets burst close (really close) to your face, making you face the hard to chew, raw truth: you seem to be alone.
Akin to that, is the wind-drag when flutes and trumpets burst close (really close) to your face, making you face the hard to chew, raw truth: you seem to be alone.