My morning coffee is accompanied by the distant train that hums southbound along the shore line. The porch rattles; my bones soak in the sunlight. I am enslaved by a laconic atmosphere that echoes between houses and cars quicker here than there. Faded into the distant future as the summer rolls to a close. Jitters pulse through my tendons, spitting coffee at me, mocking my cognizant eardrums. I feel awake. I feel alive. I feel organic. Voices drown out the distant choo and I am brought back to everything present. Cosmic vibrations in the sine waves of a continuous universe.
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