Muddle-headed Kay (mhw) wrote,
Muddle-headed Kay

This journal has been placed in memorial status. New entries cannot be posted to it.

  • Mood:

Here because I have a feeling someone needs to read this.

[A paragraph from a story I've been writing for a few years. If it doesn't mean anything to you, just ignore it.]

Time stops: without the beat, who can determine duration? Only the faint white unchanging hiss of the universal background persists. The seed in the pod, Gairt had said: remember that the seed never ceases to shift, nor the membrane to vibrate, nor the wood to echo. Every music that ever was played is still playing, far far away, and very quietly... but the gods hear every note of it, every last note.

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