Oleg seeking inspiration. Hastily ears pointed to the breeze. Empty pages, a leather bound journal. Flutter upon the windowsill.
The voice nestled between his eyes. It skips certain syllables continuing never ending frustration. His muse maybe not so mystical. Erratic and hysterical her firght and terror palpable.
His ideas create a new world.
Choral tremors shift the constant wind. Her familiar voice impels him out the door.
Neurotic composition becoming incarnation neurotic composition genuine manifestation
He hears familiar laughter. Oleg answers the call he’d thought to have been hers. Running he sees a woman kneeling, a man is pressing a barrel against her head. He’d finally heard every word she had said.
His father wearing the mask of a fox he smiled through it’s grin.