Thursday, March 19, 2020

driving a tempest vault

The raging maelstrom sandstorm is like an impenetrable solid mist.


Men suddenly appear through the windshield, seeming to share the past in a rushed fleeting moment of age, mirth and nostalgia. As grounded apparitions silently screaming into the face of a very fierce tempest storm.

immediately they are swallowed up by the tempests malevolent energy. Leaving an illusion of ripped anoraks rippling in the wind, which seem now like wild feather plumage in the eye of the raging storm.

The rag tag feathered men now are completely ingested by  sand and fog and mist, gone but not unseen.

Was it rather just a brief second of time, perhaps of anger and of wild vengeance?
A fleating shouted vision or perhaps of a perceived dust point cloud entity, within the violent chasm of the abyss?