She eyes the shadows and is certain there will be an apocalypse. Looking down at the ground under the ledge she sits on she sees tiny rocks and ants. Suddenly, she is no different than they.
The world is so large and she is so small.For a few long moments that is her reality. For a few long moments, that is her existence. It only takes a moment, but the shadows at the edge of the world greedily creep closer to her soul.
A giant steps toward her, the thunder of his footsteps echoing in the tiny world, each deep throbbing drum in the music mocking her as the footsteps land. She looks down and the ants pay no attention to the intruder coming between her contemplation of them and their business. She looks back up and the face looms in the sky of her mind, ominous and damning.
She thinks there is no escape. Yet another wave dashes against her, slams into her, rocks the shaky platform she perches on and slowly erodes the supports. Soon she must find new ones. She looks down at the face from above, inside the glass box she builds in that presence.
She was mistaken to think that she could find another support in this.
Fool's gold.
She lies back and drowns in the waves.