A line from SalsSky: The Chosen One
No phantom wind, no echo — only light, clean and indifferent to whatever had happened in the night.
On the quiet that arrives without warning
Morning has come. That is all. Sals stands at the rail, facing east, and the light asks nothing of him. It does not know what the night held. It does not care. It simply falls, even and clean, on whatever is there to receive it. And something in him — held tight without his realising — begins to ease. The warmth moves slowly, deeper than skin. He breathes the way people breathe when they have stopped bracing for something. This is a small moment. Nothing is resolved. The forest is still dark at its edge. But the morning arrived anyway, indifferent to the difficulty that came before it. That indifference is not coldness. It is a kind of relief. The world does not require an explanation from you before it offers light. You may have carried something heavy through a long night of your own. The morning came for you too, without conditions. What might loosen in you, if you let it land?
Pass it on
More lines about stillness
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Sals swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat there, watching morning gather across the floor in slow grey light.
Chapter One · The Echo of the Abyss -
It simply existed, as if the emptiness had decided, just this once, to admit it wasn't empty.
Chapter One · The Echo of the Abyss -
It simply waited, patient the way only something with no stake in the outcome can be.
Chapter One · The Echo of the Abyss -
Without the stick, the dark behind the blindfold became total — no reference point, no direction, no sense of scale.
Chapter One · The Echo of the Abyss -
What he listened for now was its absence — that half-second of nothing that meant the world beneath him hadn't answered yet.
Chapter One · The Echo of the Abyss -
His entire world had narrowed to the reach of that one thin stick, tapping the rock ahead of each footfall.
Chapter One · The Echo of the Abyss