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442 · Jan 2012
the Future
Blake Bumpus Jan 2012
Something grievous has come to his attention
in the middle of the night. He put his hands on
her head and
stopped time, it was the only thing he could think
of to stop the rest of the bad news from
obliterating him.

Moments went by
except that moments did
not exist anymore.
He waited and waited
slept for a bit, put a blanket
over the girl, even though she
does not feel a thing,
is not even aware of his hands
on her head.

He started to wonder if he
had stopped time,
of if time has simply moved on
without him.

After eons, he relented from exhaustion
and lifted his hands off her head,
and to his horror
nothing
happened.

He pushed against the walls, the air, the ceiling, anything to
get time moving again.
And still nothing.

He decided that his only chance to start time again
would be to do the moon’s job.
In the night off the coast of California
he dug his heels into the sand,
the cars and the people and the waves and the lights
static.

In a motion he pushed and pulled
Pulled and pushed
And slowly the waves, the ocean
started to move again.

All too quickly, it was day light, years has passed
He came into a world
much different than before.
Inspired heavily by the movie of the same name.
442 · Feb 2012
Home
Blake Bumpus Feb 2012
Ideas of mine tend to vanish
when I return home
my mind get’s comfortable (a horrible sin)
and all I want to do is be thoughtless
even though all I want to do is be thoughtful.

— The End —