Reading Time: 2 minutes TIMELINES The night sang like a trance, its banshee voice raising eerie goosebumps on the cockles of my heart. He is still dead. Permanently dead. Ever since the phone call at 6. He had waited for more slices of time and space than what was available on the time list of fate, or, in the …
The Mind Bin is a creation of my mind and my mind is a minefield. I try not to step on it and cause explosions because I know people already have.
My mind is an overworked investment banker frantically trying to settle her debts; debts worth millions of moments and tons of heartbeats. I know my mind is a bin that has held too much crap for too long; I need to right-click and press shift and delete. It needs work, perhaps a pest control, or more likely, a gym membership- some exercise, food and maybe just a tiny little piece of the chocolate bar from the love factory. Welcome to The Mind Bin!
