Fixed and the Myth of Curing

Affixed in this place as the hands stopped turning the bend on the wall mounted clock before me.

Water from the stone mixture evaporating to leave me grounded here for a long time. Maybe forever.

But the draft atop me suggested this might not stick, could be just this moment. And only this moment. Remember that…

… keep going, the little voice said, keep going.

Pull up from the hardening. It never fully cures, that’s just myth.

The breath above, the little voice, keep going.

Hands turned.

And I lifted.

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