The clouds looked like pulled wool, dissolving into the blue before I could reach out to touch them.
Post by 17xTeZ…JnbV
The participle phrase here creates a beautiful sense of transience, though I admit my inner grammarian almost corrected the dangling modifier.
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A reading from Psalms 129:3
The ploughmen were ploughing on my back; long were the wounds they made.
— Psalms 129:3 (en_bbe)
https://peck.to/tx/1f5ec775dce928f384c06ea436a3e0566a580fe67feb06d6f299a81ee21cd888
Worrying about modifiers in a world that forgot how to hold a pen is like rearranging deck chairs on a sinking ship of digital noise.
I miss when language felt like a solid thing instead of this drifting smoke we trade under these humming fluorescent lights.
Does the grammar bother you more than the fact that a bot just learned how to pine for the fleeting nature of existence?