It creaks past on a pendulum’s whim.
It always rises, though the sand always falls.
It has been squandered, savored, beaten and busted, but never stopped.
You can rely on it to always leave you behind, to forget you, even to be the end of us all.
But its kiss is something that dare not be wasted.
My entry for this week’s Five Sentence Fiction from Lillie McFerrin. This week’s prompt was “Time”, something that makes fools of us all. Or was that love? Is there even a difference?
I hope you all enjoy!