Hephaestus Axon

My memories feel more realthanthis moment left to annealin the fleeting forge of fabrication, locked, yet to revealwhat it is I have experienced, inchoate and mysterious;there is still that which speaks to me, incipient and blind.

The Corridor Less Traveled

     I casually stroll through this maroon hallway. Glancing downward, seeing the ceiling. The soft fluorescent lights playing games with my eyes. Mischievously reflecting their dull, dancing visages. I became consciously aware of the sound of my shoes tapping on the tarnished linoleum. Feeling the cool, climate-controlled air surround me. Overhead, the steel fans purr, quietly