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I die on a Thursday in roughly 30 years. The exact date isn't important. The exact moment is. There is a rattled breath, a feeling of being hugged too tightly, and then the sound of breaking glass. I see my life for the first time in the second after I die.
It was nothing like I thought.
( Through the Glass )
The title of this piece is a lyric from Annie Lenox's Into the West.
This entry was written in response to the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
therealljidol Challenge 18: It's Not What You Think . There will (probably) be voting for this week's entries. I will make sure to link to the poll once it is put up and I would appreciate it if you would vote for me if you enjoy my entry. As always, feedback is welcome and appreciated.
It was nothing like I thought.
( Through the Glass )
The title of this piece is a lyric from Annie Lenox's Into the West.
This entry was written in response to the
therealljidol Challenge 18: It's Not What You Think . There will (probably) be voting for this week's entries. I will make sure to link to the poll once it is put up and I would appreciate it if you would vote for me if you enjoy my entry. As always, feedback is welcome and appreciated.