Don’t you just love time?

A beautiful thing.

So many uses!

Such as, not publishing chapters for an absurd amount of time.

Or even, sitting in a chair at my computer doing nothing at all!

Though it’s a snag on the mind.

The constant ticks of a clock like a dead or dying star pulsing out a jet of burning white helium before it fades into the void.

Maybe the thought of a creature to inspire you to do as you will, taking it’s bony clawed hands and playing you like an instrument to the song of its will and voracity.

Or it might just be that I’m imagining them You’ll never know you poor thing, left in the dark to feed on scraps.

Though I see it now bone as cold as ice and talons to play the mind like a string a beast beyond compare, kings trembling in the wake of its rule to be eternally submitted.

A claw of beautiful ivory to trace the land cutting swaths women, children, none spared its graceful genocide.

A face to behold teeth like daggers, slashing through the land as if it was flesh.

A truly beautiful godsend.