The roads stretch far into the distance. I have yet to reach Closeness Inn at the median of this road. I am not too close, but I can get there if I keep on moving. My feet hurt from walking this gray, stone pathway. This cannot be Wizard of Oz again. The more concrete I walk on, the more concrete this distance I've been keeping from people becomes. I wish I had my razor scooter to get there faster. But, wait, is time really that important to me?
Tick Tock. My grandfather clock calls from the grave. He looks from the altar. Tick Tock. Shall I move on?
This cannot be Wizard of Oz again. You are the new-age the tin-person from today's standards: The robot, who show me the how it is like to have a heart. Perhaps, I am the robot. We are robots together I suppose. Please travel with me to Closeness Inn. I don't want to walk this road alone. Let's reach Closeness together.
This cannot be Wizard of Oz again, but it is now that I see it that way.
1 comment:
"The more concrete I walk on, the more concrete this distance I've been keeping from people becomes."
love that line.
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