One in the Morning

A clipping and clop, echoing against the white tile walls, uniform in rhythm and number. Black suit against surgical white; a smalll shadow in an electrically lit void.

Alone alast, striding towards home. The brief case. A contrast to the polarizing polaroid of the picture.

Snakes a cord, white as the background, upward into the listener.

He walks calmly; without the thin line it might not be, but the chaos resounding in his ears balances out the quiescence. A slow walk; a fast beat.

Nothing quite like watching rain from inside.