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The Ceiling

The Unsigned Writer

The Ceiling

Written By, J. M. Lilin

The day passes by, blurring colors and flashing lights. It all lowers down, farther into the ground as the hours become larger numbers and then skip back to a restart.

Tenebrosity has fallen over the nanoscopic marble we live in, and she will find herself in her own retreat back at her sanctuary block. Its small and hidden, yet somewhere to be that’s elsewhere then where the others take their rest.

She will lay down, sinking into the ocean beneath her and be enveloped in different shades of greys and blues. She will form herself into a contorted ball of comfort and go where no one else can seem to find her.

Then as engines roar far away, animals dive the oceans somewhere else, and humans migrate to different cities in another place, she will find herself in a quiet place that is hallowed and irreplaceable.

Up above, is a ceiling of different curiosities and wonders and she will stare into them until the blue in her eyes has left her and retraced its steps into the place above that no soul could possibly reach.

Yet, only the special ones know that their soul is their eyes and their blue eyes, the soul of the spirits. With the knowledge, the spirits of the blue can be released.

The spirit will form spirals across the ceiling, turning and twisting into something that’s the greatest. Forming and creating something out of imagination that becomes so real that she’ll never know that it was a mirage.

Purple will desire the blue and the blue will forget the yellow that has clung to the orange and the orange has faded to a yellow that will turn and kiss the purple that has become something a little darker of a black which rebels into a lightness of grey, all connecting back with the blue of her soul.

Retreating back into the hollow, the world in the ceiling has been splattered into plastic stars that fade back and forth in conversation until the breeze will have them blown away in a constant hush of dreams that will rain down in a storm of shot lights.

All that is left is the blue, alone and individual, until it raises its hands to the rising sun and collapses back off the ceiling cliff, flipping through the air until it hits the ground and has developed back into the soul of its owner and the blue eyed spirit has risen and finally looked away from the gape in the ceiling.

Thank you for reading this writing by J. M. Lilin on, The Unsigned Writer. If you’re enjoying this site, leave a like, and subscribe for more!


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