Simple.

Quickly we walk. Brisk. Driven.

Our polished shoes liaising with the polished floor.

With eyes that don't see the sky, but see the glare of obligation. Need. Expectation.

But what does the sea think as it kisses the shore? Brisk. Unrelenting.

As the sun throws down its rays to liaise with the earth. 

With eyes that don't see prey, but the glare of obligation. Survival. Expectation.

Slowly the earth turns. Precisely. Perfectly.

Quickly we walk. Brisk. Driven.

Playing our part. Parallel. Simple. 

Rhiannon TuntevskiComment