An exercise in writing.

I suppose a writer can and does grow through filtering their own experiences through their own faculties without suggestion or influence from any other source. But it's been my experience that I often won't realize something until an outside source has gained my attention and placed a light on what was right next to me but darkened before that point, especially when wandering over rarely frequented terrain. Thus I treasure what I gain outside myself and believe that my growth is quickened by it.

I expect (either accurately or misguidedly) one day, when I'm a "real writer" (whatever that means), I won't ascribe the same degree of importance to hearing from the outside. Between that time and this, I solicit reactions. And interpretations. Have you the inclination, please share them. Much obliged.



Twin faces look out from the wall, one above the other.
Their eyes are both fixated to the same point.
They share a look of fright. A look of worry.
As if something's coming after them.
A relentless pursuit.

Each countenance is frozen.
The upper's eyes are wider than the lower's.
The lower seems to feel more dread, like there's a finality about this chase that the other doesn't see.
With both mouths agape, neither of them appear to like what's coming.

The terror is close.
It will catch them any second.

They could run, only they can't.
They're in the wall.
Immobilized.
Incapable of fleeing what is sure to strike...now.

Seconds pass.
The faces are unchanged.
The terror has not overcome.
It just looms.
Like a rain cloud neither approaching nor departing.

In these faces is mirrored my own.
Frightened.
Unmoving.
Never overcome, never overcoming.