Excerpt from a short story I’m currently working on:

The air smelled damp. Rocks bordered the space between the lake and the land. Protecting something, although I’m not sure what exactly. Lilly pads slapped against the rigged rocks, ultimately cutting and dicing many of them into tiny little pieces, that would soak through so thoroughly they’d eventually turn to dust. Wet dust, but dust. So really, the protective barrier seemed destructive in some sense.

The sun was a little less than mid-sky, the start of bringing a layer of beautiful darkness upon the earth. One could now see the reflection of rainbow stage lights bouncing off the water. It was breathtaking.

As in it would literally rob you of your breath. I swam in the moment, being pulled under by waves as they crashed against my body. Not my physical body, but my spiritual— a reminder that this big, bright, boisterous rainbow can be quite exclusive; perhaps more often than not. Rainbows are not as endless as we all dream, yet there is still no pot of gold at the end of them.

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