Don't even ask. I can't seem to get into the groove and it's getting me down. It's also why I haven't updated or written anything of relevance lately. I stare at my screen and I want the next chapter of Domination or Adversus Adverto to write itself. So far, no luck. :(
Writer's block sucks.
We were there, existing, watching, sitting invisible on the steeples of a white cathedral. Low chatter, mindless talk,fluttered up to us on the wings of a dying bird. It was a low, buzzing metronome in our ears. Fleeting sounds came with it, the blaring horn of a car, the shouting of people far below. That's all it was though, fleeting.
"Vlad."
He listened.
People had become as fleeting at the sounds they make, our memories a hindrance. We were ageless, unaffected by time. Forever we followed an endless cycle of existence. Meaning had long since slipped away, leaving us with empty, ever watching shells.
"I want to die." I whispered.
And still, he listened.