Bokelskere.no

The universe is a living, breathing thing. Time, too. It moves, though not as mortals imagine. It is restless, twitchy. Mortals don't notice because mortals are restless and twitchy, too. God's notice, but we learn to ignore these things early on, the same way mortal newborns eventually ignore the lonely silence of a world without hearbeats. Yet suddenly I notice everything. The slow, aeons-deep inhalation of the stars. The cracle of the sun's power agains this planet's veil of life. The minute scratching of mites too small to see on Shahar's pristine white skin. The lazy, buzzy jolt of hours and days and centuries.