She watched time go by on the porch swing. The only place to watch time, as she was concerned. Here, it moved slowly, arduous, like a tired dog coming back wounded from an unsuccessful hunt. Here, time was dying and she could see it’s blood staining the sky with brilliant reds, and burning it with orange. Even the clouds were tainted with violet bruises blooming on their bellies. The sun hung low, preparing it’s last glimpse of this world for today. It let out a yellow sigh and she watched from on the porch as the deep shadows of night crawled over everything.


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