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Time stood still, a product of perception; perhaps a fragment of the imagination only, which was neither tangible nor incorporeal. He stood looking into the figment, wonder expanding through his thoughts like a mirror replicating that which he saw, stretching, reaching into the unknown.
Where had he come? What place filled his gaze? A dark encapsulation of mystery sparkled in his eyes; innumerable points of light filling what once stood empty, alone; and that bejeweled cacophony of silence reflected in his liquescent gaze as a whisper just above the point of perception hinted he was not alone.
A feminine voice.
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~Morgan~
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. This Flash Fiction piece is a sequel to Passage, which I wrote in response to Sue Vincent’s #Writephoto weekly photoprompt.
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Beautiful Original Photograph by: Matt Payne
the angels are all around us, great words, so real, blessings
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