Exiled to the exquisite past
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Exiled to the exquisite past I moved across time from before to now to brief tomorrow.
How many thoughts, how many inspirations, how many bold ideas have predated my brief time on Earth?
Curiosity bid me look into the eyes, hearts and thoughts of Men defunct and forgotten. Men and women whose brief life span passed in a blink. Like them my time is near end.
Read, write, think, emote. Pictures and paintings reveal past inspirations more clearly than 200 hundred pages by the Genius of the Age.
Jesus, my body sinks. My side aches, I am famished by thirst and my hands and arms cramp as they tremble to support my weight.
What the plan, where the purpose; in a blink Time has moved on, we are oblivion.
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