Eggs and SemolinaThe air is medium sweet, with a slight zephyr sliding between my follicles. Abovesplash is streaked with the pale gold warning of time. But I cared less and less these days. Grown is near and all I could think about is beyond. I’ve never seen anything but the blackness while we turn through our space and when we dare to look for the golden tones, I know that is as far as we will see.

I wonder what is beyond abovesplash when it is not black speckled with small diamonds. Is it the same? Why wouldn’t it be? But the air changes to medium sweet when I see the golden dim and I can hear sounds foreign to my sanctuary of dank rock caverns. If that changes, why wouldn’t abovesplash change? I want to know but I don’t know how to find out.

Grown is coming and I know how important it is but I’m fighting the listlessness I feel with every timelength I’ve been taught. This isn’t enough though, and I wonder what not wondering would feel like.