The corn that just popped and stayed in mid air


With gusts of air defiling my hungry stomach, I crave for a popcorn to come my way, flying, right out of its pan, hot and worthy of a thought, but not a chew.

 

Corn#1

The chalks that wait for their turn to draw what to each seems the best line in the world know not that they are guided by a hand that curves their paths in patterns they know nothing about.

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