Collision

by T.S. Reed

Somewhere, buried deep within my subconscious, is an image of Benjamin Haston I wish I could forget. He is tired and sad and vulnerable and there is nothing but open air and half-truths between us as we hold onto each other.

We’re on the edge - the precipice - balancing between what was and what could be. Where we will land is a mystery. Which way we will fall is still undetermined. But I can feel it. Sense it. Everything will be decided by what happens next.

I feel the world shift slightly, like I’ve been standing on the wrong mark all this time, as if I have been off centre my entire life and the earth itself has just moved beneath me, correcting me and showing me this is where I have been aiming for all along.