Time

Moor and clouds (1 of 1)

Time, like sand, tumbles between fingers.

The hands spin slowly. Relentlessly.

Windows of opportunity, closing.
Four hours, becomes three, becomes two. Less.

My body fights, but I won’t let it slip away.

Seizing it, speed and effort compensates for comfortable minutes and extended meandering.

Flats and smiles, swopped for climbs and grimaces, fly peppered molars served by breakneck descents.

Never give up and let all of that sand fall.

Yesterday’s 4 hour window reduced by more than half,  in time alone.

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