Digital Ischemia


The Gorge

Filed under: Shorts — Teepwriter @ 13:13

I, the ferned frond tenuously attached to sheer rock, sustained by spray flung up from colliding waters below, trickling in return. I’ve clung here for decades, neither growing nor dying. The canopy of elders breaks storms but denies any breeze. Fortune steers falling parents around me. The fearful rumble of the unknown shakes me.

Now I hear the rock: it speaks to me of my deep roots, my potential. It offers nourishment: its fissures deep, rich. I fear it cracking, crumbling, dissolving. The rock agrees, but reminds me: life is very long.

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