The unerring potency of an uncanny prophesy is channeled in a pool of fire water. Curl yourself into a ball, trot around the perimeter, and send deep slow blinks to your best friend. Someone whose name you havn’t learned yet wonders if you know that time is non-linear. Who’s that whistling in the dark?
For today: the color lemon yellow, azulite, music in the key of E, the feeling of rain on your face, and the survival instincts of trillium.
* * * * * * *