Three's

(as always, a work in progress)

I couldn't remember the last time I cried, so that is why the second tear ran down my cheek. The third one was proof that they can cascade once the eyegates are open. Thus, the rest of them aren't important while I passed my third straight day on a bus.

Three days of sitting, watching the world go by. How many others have a window through which to look at a planet spinning, a moon rising, a sun setting? Who else sits as I sit, entertained by movies to pass a couple of hours as distractions from the long road?

Three days of desert- dry, rocky, beige- spanning leftwardly, right-ways and to the front, towards infinity. Endless dunes, one after the other after the other after the other, result from lifeless winds. The grandeur stretches iteself towards peaks and troughs; the mind recalls the future, predicts the past and flees the present.

That first tear paralyzed my actions, scared my thoughts and overwhlemed my emotions beacuse it didn't fall from my eye.