When the doorbell rang, I was in the kitchen, reading a book.
It wasn't a particularly interesting book. Rather than dancing, the columns of text stood stiffly across
ring
the page.
But, I did not hate it. Strangely, a soft layer of calm overlaid my line of sight, and
ring
as I read, a
ring
thought came into my head. A perfectly shaped kind of thought, like water
ring ring
that had been moulded at just the right temperature.
I left to open the door. Of course, when I came back, such a thought was in pieces, all over the floor.
Word Count: 100
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