The phase has passed. What held for a moment in brightness begins to loosen; a gentle wobble sets in, barely noticed at first. Vision, once clear, grows faintly impaired and softened, as if seen through breath on a glass. There was excess of food, of warmth, of presence and now the body drifts in its wake, time unfastening itself from the rhythm it briefly kept. Still, the train does not stop. It moves forward, as it must, through fields of paler winter light, carrying with it the fragments of what has just been a song slipping quietly out of tune. Yule Tide Slips Sails and Rails to Nowhere by Jansy Noise
Lost and found audio gold, musical jewels and treasure. Soul extremes and borderless suprise.