Thoughts. Swirling. Churning. Bubbling up in my brain and drumming, drumming, drumming on my heart.
Sometimes they chug by as slowly as a Victorian paddle boat, graceful and stately. Sometimes they roar through like a pontoon boat late for its nightly check in. And sometimes they dart by as quickly as a dragonfly, and I cannot catch them long enough to know what I thought.
Beautiful thoughts. Average thoughts. Thoughts as dark as the catfish that swim on the bottom of the river. Thoughts thoughts thoughts thoughts.