Trellis

Heavy winds have scrubbed the skies blue, the landscape is cold again. Sunlight pours down on the stillness.

Thirteen hours and three minutes ago, I wrote the two lines, above.

Now it is dark and brightly cold. The soft whir of the computer's fan is the main soundtrack (that, and the clicking of the keyboard). Outside, in the distance: a dog barking.

I'm tired, but not tired enough...

18 hours, 16 minutes, later:

I feel like a vampire, shrinking back at the emergence of dawn. The sky looks like a piece of dirty ice, melting from ink to brightness. 7:15 am. The landscape is a ghost. My back is stiff. Sleep will be like falling down a well.

3 Days, 10 hours, later...

And it is as black and as cold as frost at midnight. My head hurts, vaguely. I feel stressed and exhausted at the same time. I should sleep. Perchance...

4 days, 10 hours, now.

We were meant to live for so much more, but we lost ourselves...

Five days and two hours...

And the first real snow has frosted the grass and hills around here. The streets are still clear -- cold and dark. The skies a uniform whitish-gray. Isolated flakes drift aimlessly in the chilly air. They say that more of the white is coming. Time, will tell...

5 days, 19 hours, and the paleness of the sky has washed down onto the ground. The cold is deep. A few flakes drift here and there. The roads are clear, though -- which is good, for I'll be driving today...

6 days, 5 hours, since this started. It's dark again. Chilly. Christmas lights are shining their colors and we've climbed this trellis to the weekend. It's Friday now. December 8th.

Time.

Flies.