opening the red polka dot umbrella brought relief from the hot sun mercilessly shining through the open window. sidetracked by the heat she could focus, the stillness inside, as a soft vibrating purr waiting for recognition, for a touch, a caress.
he was talking again simply noted by the movement of his hands. observing his hands became greater than his words beckoning for understanding, falling flat on the floor full of emptiness unattached to meaning, unsubstantiated topics floating lightly on top of fluent waters.
never wanting to be noticed, it was his little pinkie on his left hand. slightly bent an expression with wings wanting to fly. brilliant blue topaz catching a glint of sunlight, surrounded by a gold band. was he aware of the connection to the blue topaz, how the shine would bring all the dreams home to those who held inherent harmony.
immutable his voice caught on a breeze from an opened door. contracting as an accordian playing with romantic relish in a dance of playful passion. musical notes soon filled the room with gaiety and laughter. eyes waxed with wanting it appeared progression was unstoppable and the whole would soon move on to a distinct farther. reality released and paused, a strange hush of comprehension spread like softened butter.
datelessly changed by survival he came to the end, the confines of boundaries tied to his heel. the small quick applause he graciously acknowledged and with little hesitation he left the podium.
***** ***** ********* **** ***
weekend wordsmith: faded; michelle’s poefusion, tuesday title: five-pronged eyes
photo: The Girl Behind The Camera, flickr