He could hear the music of creation around him as he listened. The somber strains compelled him to keep walking slowly forward, the air still around him. He was reminded of the grave as he tumbled forward, his foot missing a step. So he fell onto the gray pavement, his wrist cracking insensate.

The noise picked up all around him again as the music disappeared. Each moment was nothing more than a flash of time, the world going around him ignorant of his place in it.

He opened his mouth in a terrible and great scream.

But nobody was listening.


Posted from my blog with SteemPress : http://blog.homoeoteleuton.com/listening/

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