It Was An Ordinary Day...

There was a sky, like the sky had always been before. There were people, there were buildings, there were parks and roadways and places to learn and shop and have fun. There were echoes and rainbows.
It was an ordinary day.

There was one person in particular: a self, an alone, a wholeness. There were opportunities to recognise, to relate, to integrate, opportunities to question and challenge and fulfill. There were shadows and changes.
It was an ordinary day.

There was nothing really happening. There were words, there were sentences, there were paragraphs and pages, there were fingers on keyboards and voices on the phone. There were glances and smiles.
It was an ordinary day.

There was one other person in particular: one person in the world. There were words, there were no words, there was nothing really happening and every moment of it savoured. There were hands and eyes.
It was an ordinary day.

There was the unknown. There was improbability and impossibility and disappearance and reinvention and memory loss. There was nothing anybody could do about it.
It was an ordinary day.

Mostly, there was this.

One day, there was a sky, like the sky had always been before. There were people, a self, made of hands and smiles. There was the known. There was no unknown. It was an extraordinary day.

The next day was unknown. There were buildings, an alone, fingers on keyboards and voices on the phone, hands and eyes and impossibility.
It was an ordinary day.

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