11 o'clock by Iza Deleanu Flash Non-Fiction writing prompt entry |
It's 11 o'clock a.m, somewhere in this world. I am watching the 11 o'clock thumping on the shore of the Pacific Ocean. The sun majestic holds the horizon in a hot embrace. Birds are launching in and out from the velvety blanket of the sea.
The sand still keeps tight in his memory the last night dance of the full moon, when gigantic tides invaded its intimacy. As a result of this struggle, there are abandoned shells and seaweed on the shore. It's at 11 o'clock on the mountain. The birds are praising the beautiful day in a concert of unearthly trills. Monkeys are running from branch to branch, searching for lunch supplies. From the top of my tree, I am watching the sun glowing in the peak of the mountain, a golden aura that increases the mysticism of this place. I am trapped in two worlds, and it's 11 o'clock.
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Iza Deleanu
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