The Havanun Tales #9

Heaven is made of music

And beer is an eclipse

I wondered if here, in Havanun, time passes as in all other parts of the world. It is not easy to answer.

Who is dreaming, can keep time?

Does a flower really count the minutes?

The inhabitants of Havanun, all they can read a pentagram.

Heaven is made of music, they say. Moon and sun are clever guitar chords. It’s easy to keep pace, just don’t think about it.

I look out the window.

Beer is an eclipse, rises and falls into the glass.

James behind the counter sings an old wooded song.

When I leave here, my heart it will never beat the same way again.

Thank you Trisha Traughber for giving my stories a platform here at Vagabond Voices. Thank you all for reading