Going to Pride

It was a late summer morning, and the land was shining pink and blue when I saw it. There in the white clouds, a sliver of certainty flashed past the train window. Like shards of green leaves slashing past my pupil, like a bird speeding through traffic, like a light flickering in a quiet street. I turned to my friend and watched her mend her skirt. Poke, pull, tie. It seemed to me the sky mended itself, too.

Perhaps this is all we really need—to move steady. To trust in the road ahead, for it is while traveling, even without aim, that one feels the touch of the Future.

28.06.2025