No Saving Face

Time edges along at a creeping pace near the periphery of broken boundaries.  Dimensions of truth shatter and splatter across the infinite abyss of space, scattering into super nova stardust.  Long into the night, the people stare at the sky, wondering what will happen next now that all they’ve ever known has been irreconcilably and irrevocably altered.  There remains nothing left of what once was.  Illusions of a past that can’t be properly remembered hang at the outer edges of consciousness, teasing and taunting the minds of those whose history has been torn asunder forevermore.  A feint hallucination of recollection irritates the frayed, numbed nerves.  A feeling of “what if” lingers.  Emotions of “could have been” lace the limelight.  Until the sun bursts, and then, too, all vision becomes distorted.  Black eclipsed destiny manifests in a burn out.  Disaster area cordoned off.  Picket fences and yellow tape litter the scene.  A lightning rod of negative attention pulses at the parallel poles of fractured reality, twisting and turning like a tattered flag in the wind.  Makeshift solutions are conjured up in the cauldron and let loose in a frenzied fashion.  A brutal sense of urgency emerges from the mud.  A new beast with designer genes evolving with adaptive qualities to counter the chaos.  The dawning of the new day arriving without much fanfare.  No horizon to rise above.  No way to know what’s happening.  No truth to be gleamed.  Part and parcel to the wholeness of discombobulating decomposition.  Everything is off by a fraction of a second.  Calculations break down.  Entropy approaches.  There is no turning back.  There is no saving face.  There is no getting out alive.  Make your peace.  The world has died.

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