witty-remark's Diaryland Diary

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We're all antiques in the making. The treasures and novelties of time waiting to be pawned off to history.

So we sit and collect dust. Or get dusted off. But every second we shed our old skin to don anew. The layers of time dancing beneath our footsteps, wrinkling like ripples on satin sheets.

Silk for the indulgent.

Cotton for the frugal.

But we lie in the beds we make, no matter how old or worn the mattresses we dream on become.

1:44 p.m. - Sunday, Sept. 19, 2010

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