Hinges, I Greeted

I shrank my entire city down into a nutshell, quite literally. I wrapped it in foil and stuck it in my pocket for the commute to work. But just as I was about to walk out the door, I realized that my concept of space and time had been irreparably altered. Throwing the door off its hinges, I greeted the blankness that immediately enveloped me from every angle. I searched my pocket for the condensed metropolis, but that too had vanished. I shouldn’t have done such a foolish thing, especially before I’d had anything to eat for the day.

Author: Aidan Badinger

Wharved.com I am a poet. I write poems. Titles and subjects and subsequent readership are all part of one fragmented figment of our universe, and it's nice that we take it so seriously. Hopefully the craft remains and grows stronger for our children.

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