about the disappearance of arrival

The breaking grains of silence cut across the shore of whistling sands. A hollow arch of positions moving in a patient tandem, lowering against the disappearing light as the sky hollows to the oceans expanse. One absorbs the other. No distinction. All is blurred.

Hello and welcome. This blog is my commentary about running, the running, the runs, the on and the off.

It is also about a search, a search for someone, a search yet to commence.



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