The inseparable body and mind of all life. A novel about the consciousness of life and existence.
An elapsed surrender of the past is regained, priorly wordless and unseen behind and in coincidence with an observation of it, and in the thinness of time putting a stop to a silent interruption of buried memories. In the mountains, the urge returns with an enthusiasm of impressions and the excitement of her visions pleading her back. There is hereditary solace and an ancient bond with the infinite. She reveals time is slow and close for its intending shortness and trick of bending reality's willful poise to her favor in fulfillment of an old word given with familiarity. In the city, she finds abandon, not her quiet abandon alone, but the abandonment of a fated world in agreement with its abandonment as a deeply worn and tread path. A fall is predicted from her retold experience, as a surging memory and fear into a bubbling vertigo swapping focus and insight for loss of time and the experience of time when alone with it. Returning to an empty home, she revisits her untouched beach. Abandoned by her world, threatened with peril and short on time to decide, she resolves not to waste her luck and finally finish what was begun long before.
As the ending approaches and time falls away towards the inescapable light of morning without the insight of resolution, with time wasted and the involved sides despairing to find an answer to keep, the best ploys of vigorous creativity are staged for the final night's climactic meeting.
It didn't seem like her story to confess.
Books inspire more books.
An elapsed surrender of the past is regained, priorly wordless and unseen behind and in coincidence with an observation of it, and in the thinness of time putting a stop to a silent interruption of buried memories. In the mountains, the urge returns with an enthusiasm of impressions and the excitement of her visions pleading her back. There is hereditary solace and an ancient bond with the infinite. She reveals time is slow and close for its intending shortness and trick of bending reality's willful poise to her favor in fulfillment of an old word given with familiarity. In the city, she finds abandon, not her quiet abandon alone, but the abandonment of a fated world in agreement with its abandonment as a deeply worn and tread path. A fall is predicted from her retold experience, as a surging memory and fear into a bubbling vertigo swapping focus and insight for loss of time and the experience of time when alone with it. Returning to an empty home, she revisits her untouched beach. Abandoned by her world, threatened with peril and short on time to decide, she resolves not to waste her luck and finally finish what was begun long before.
As the ending approaches and time falls away towards the inescapable light of morning without the insight of resolution, with time wasted and the involved sides despairing to find an answer to keep, the best ploys of vigorous creativity are staged for the final night's climactic meeting.
It didn't seem like her story to confess.
Books inspire more books.
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