Life in an instant
The station was bright, a Mecca for people for a short time, then they are gone and the station stands still. Amidst the Brownian swirl of faces there stands still one face. Lost in a world not of her making, watching skies known only to her she stands. To know what lies behind the eyes capable of creating worlds is a gift given to few. For my part, I created a world where our worlds were the same. My creation, crafted from memory in a place that has no memory, was short lived but lasted a lifetime. A glance later she was no longer walking in the groves of imagination.
