Serif-im

I sometimes think, when I am reading or speaking, there are tiny angels between the letters and the words, perched perhaps on the serifs of the typeface–Serif-im, yes–inhabiting the white space.

They are pauses, breaths, words forgotten mid-sentence, the places lost when a bookmark drops.

They are silences, awkward or otherwise, and nothing fills them. They are always empty.

Published by

M

Writer/Screenwriter

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