HON. MENTION
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Looks at the centre and diameter diminishes to a point: every circle into one another. Inside himself vital spaces store energy up. Gears keep on their metallic clicking, unceasingly, tirelessly.
The couch-grass, warily, beware of movements, seizes the non-entity, the once-was, the no-longer-is.
The diminishing amplitude increases the sun-exposed biotic activity; circles shine bright and far away wonders where from come flashes, the unceasing rhythms of vital noise, the perfectly synchronized cardiac pace.
Looks for causes, no answers found.
Now he looks the other direction, towards the disappeared horizon. Upright, solid as fortress, watches and touches the low clouds. In search of a never existed draw-bridge, his glance stays outwards cast, chained to himself, totally isolated.