Time is not the enemy; Micah's Blog #7

Opened eyes to my dark room, harboring the silhouette of posters and my chair neatly pushed into my desk. Observing the ceiling, I see it painted with cracks from the shadows made by the streetlamp’s light across my house. It peered through the upper gap in my shades; “an abstract design made from the lens of tree branches” I thought, yet it remained still, fitting equally in each corner...