Behind the eyelids

The clouds rolled endlessly by over a blue background like some kind of screensaver.  The pumpkin was swollen and orange.  It fell forwards in slow motion until it hit the ground as the trolley came to an unexpected halt.  It contemplated loneliness and the unfairness of the world as it rocked back and forth until the kinetic energy from the fall petered-out.  There was the sound of traffic humming in the background and a dull ache.  An expectation of something more.  Something better.  Christmas would be a poor one this year unless something drastic took place.


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