Designs
I weave time, delicate moments, gossamer threads into a pattern. Those of yesterday in gold and pink, and those of tomorrow into black and blue, and a glow in the darkness of the night. I don’t control the design, just the keyboard, and I am not the artist or the arbiter of my joy. So, as my hand moves, feeling the softness of silk I know this is not flesh I feel, merely the idea of it, and what does it mean when we have replaced touch with only thought. How hollow does that turn out to be when the power it turned off? When we find out that the emotion we felt in the glow of the blue flickering light of a screen was only borrowed light, charged by the kilowatt hour. ©️ Emma Steel


This was so well done! Love it. Virg
Exquisite writing. I love what you did with the prompt. Thank you for sharing.