what a surprise to see you. in a flash time shifted and there we were dancing. it was a wednesday and i was at a bookstore i love to visit in the late lazy afternoon. it’s a good spot to rest, read books and never meet a soul i know. there’s a chair there where i bend into the wind and sit as if i’m in a field of tall grass, or sometimes i press on the gas and fly. there is where all i hear is the softness of a steady wind and the sight of pages passing in a book.
he noticed the situation had become concerning. fumbling with familiar feelings, just as quickly his anger dissipates in a fog of reason and compassion. heart-rending, wretched and yearning, he concluded there’s no way he was gonna find the truth. too deep, too wide, he’d end up drowning in the effort. dreaming of freedom he grasped at the clasp. appeased within he turned, breathing deep dropped his suitcase and started again as if he never packed.
sunday writing – choosing your context He noted the situation had become grim/concerning/chucklesome.
somber shelter sincerity, subterfuge speculation, suffocating faceless fantasies he’s not so sure he’ll last another day. cravings for a cigarette his current distraction.
she unexpectedly found herself with thought thinking he was always different. as if this is always as it was. yes, he is just there rummaging about creating an economy of movement.
his difference so subtle only by accident can one catch the commitment in his eyes. living in a halcyon hurricane amongst the quietly unperturbed, they began to gather their sails dreaming of departure.
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magpie tales no 94 photo: Lunch, George Tooker, 1964, Columbus Museum of Art