Narrative Arc
A sliver of light shines through my almost cracked eyelids,
Darl, light, dark, light,
The ceiling fan quietly pulses.
Eyes wide open, I realize I am in the opening scene of today’s screenplay.
Cut to close-up of my chipped blue coffe mug,
Steam rising, swirling, fading into the morning kitchen air.
Swirling, fading, swirling, fading,
Today’s narrative arc.
2 thoughts on "Narrative Arc"
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oooo — I like this!
the chipped blue coffe mug snagged, it was central, loved this