Imprinted

The day was coming, a little too clairvoyant for her own good. But, that’s what happens when things are thought through. She could see the exact moment of prediction, written and out of her hands. Smiling with a contradiction. Damn, she’s smart, because it all adds up. It’s feeling the invisible print imbedded on the next page. And as recollected, that was the point.

Joining then to when, sent like a sentence already said, expecting the echo. So now, she smiles again, silently running a finger over the braille, tracing its volume. Knowing is only half the chapter. After all, her words don’t matter. The fact of that imprint was all she needed to know.

Touching the paper blank as a cloud, doesn’t echo as thought, it cries out loud.

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