Undercurrents

In 12 hours or so, another day begins. Fate drags a sleeping body from bed, clothes it, and spits it out into the world to do what survival requires. No thought is required any longer; this just happens.

One day, though, a thought may appear. Thoughts change things. Screaming threnodies split the sound barrier for what was and could've been. Electrons fire a circuit forcing photons to emit from the figurative lamp floating above.

From thence, a new path emerges. Eroding through life, flowing like the river of inevitability probing points of least resistance in search of the sea of forever, change pushes out. Not necessarily forward, but away.