Simon groaned and dipped his head to check himself over, tugging nervously on the cuffs of the dress shirt he was wearing for the fitting. He couldn’t help himself; he just wanted to strip and bolt - forget the suit, forget the job, forget that he had only to turn around to see his reflection in triplicate. So instead, he fidgeted, fingers aggressively massaging the expensive cloth as he summoned up the will to leave the dressing area.
It pushed at the borders of its reality; occasionally it could feel itself merging into something far larger than itself, yet still… Maybe better to describe those moments as becoming something greater, never actually adding itself to a collective, but instead becoming aware of a huge part of its self that it had forgotten existed until that moment, pins and needles in the mind.
This isn't the dark of sunset, there is no reddening of the sky, just the subtle muting of the colours as the Sun is slowly swallowed by the moon... the shadows twist, and suddenly the ground is covered with a thousand shining sickles, pinhole images cast through the trees.
We are terrifying creatures; awful and selfish, beings that not only have forgotten how to love, treasure and respect those around us, we are now so many cracked souls that lack the knowledge of how to care properly for ourselves. We turn ourselves over to desire, indulging in selfish actions that ultimately fail to serve our needs, to mend the fractures that spread like cobwebs throughout the fragile material our lives are crafted from.