Four lines of prose about: reflections.
Laptop might have died this afternoon. If you're reading this then it still hasn't been fixed - I'm scheduling this post from the library.
Fingers crossed it isn't an expensive or prolonged problem.
The water is as still as a grave, reflecting the storm brewing overhead as though it were a liquid hand mirror. A man sits on the grassy shore, knees drawn up to his chest, his unfocused gaze on the pond.
Thunder rumbles in the distance, louder and more threatening than the previous grumbled warning.
And the man thinks, It won't be long now.