fwriction

“Sometimes, I thought we were a twinkle, Estelle and I. Over the years, we took turns vanishing, reappearing later to a bit of bewilderment, renewed somehow. We’d both had lovers, though this remained forever unspoken, and perhaps they, too, had something to do with the process. As we moved along our timeline, for the most part unchanging, our lovers were small black holes, of finite size and shape, which pulled in everything without apology, and when these black holes became unstable, they dissipated like a fog, bringing us back to our timeline, the haze in the backs of our eyes milky.”

(And, another, compliments of TrainWrite, the awesomest creative writing blog around.)