Directly inspired by the work Vince is doing over on his blog — replicated in extreme mediocrity.
Quiet in the back and forgotten, like a book without a cover.
Wandering aimlessly through the blizzard, searching for new territory to settle.
Misunderstood like a crude pun over cocktails, resulting in dismissal.
An artist etching out that which moves, like a caveman about the hunt.
Temporary in this world, like the face of a lost loved one in a shape of a cloud.