Dusk loosens its grip into a soft metallurgy of fading gold, yet the interior radiance keeps its circuitry lit, humming through thought like a private aurora.
"Thought Crumbs" is the blog of yours truly, Al Scott Pearce Baker. Here, I scatter musings, short stories, poetry, and paintings, and ponder various art forms, both traditional and digital. Follow along, and who knows where you’ll end up.
Dusk loosens its grip into a soft metallurgy of fading gold, yet the interior radiance keeps its circuitry lit, humming through thought like a private aurora.
Cheer rises unbidden, a weather system of the mind, self-renewing beneath the skull’s pale dome, where recollection turns translucent and harmless as blown glass.
Eternal sunlight inhabits cognition itself, not as sky but as condition—an inward weather without season, where play loosens time’s joints and sends it drifting.
Joy moves between instants like a figure wading through lucid water, forever swaying in the interval where moments forget their borders.
Every monster belongs to a landscape. The vampire belongs to the threshold, the werewolf to the wild, the sea serpent to the abyss. Mothman ...
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