Futures

I hope for better in December. As the day comes to a close, the sky explodes into a master's canvas, the strokes deliberate but absolutely effortless, drawing the breath out of my chest as the last rays of light softly touch the earth.

As soon as it arrives, it is gone. I am left completely changed in its wake. These are the moments, these small, fleeting fragments of time, that will remain crystallized in my memory as perfect, as enduring, for all eternity.