167 more words
I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked.
Tags » Sylvia Plath
‘The eye reads forward as the memory reads back’
From The Nightfishing (1955) by WS Graham
A curious thing, to be thinking of the future, only to stumble across it in the past. 1,224 more words