An Observation made within Sam Spratt's "IX. The Monument Game" - Luci on the edge. Skies burning, muck below, council eyes look on.
What will Luci do?
With Fear, Uncertainty, Doubt a hand loosely holds on for comfort, safety, the known. Will the branch hold?
The expression of intent, does it carry beyond the comedy & tragedy below, past the Fear Of Missing Out?
The journey that fulfills is only understood & taken alone. It is there to be taken
Time is short for the observer. Inaction will be action, but not ones own.
Luci is worthy, does Luci know?
I am Luci
