I was thinking this morning about how many great moments slip through the cracks, cracks in horrors and tragedies like the London Blitz, cracks in our own attention, moments that go unnoticed, the little changes leading up to a change in season.
@GreatDismal flowers growing on slate roofs overrun with moss. And our of the cracks in a stone wall 300+ years old—@strixus
Even the replies go there. Cracks. Things pushing up where we imagine they have no business.
I sometimes write about a fictional world that doesn't have a lot of room for cracks, metaphorical or otherwise. What would your life be like without any cracks?