Driving - IIIIIIDriving - III
The wind stirs the dust and fragments of dirty paper, which swirl and spiral upward into the chill of the evening.
Two people stand at the curb, about to cross the road.
They wait at the corner, turned slightly towards each other.
Two boys, teenagers of that age when the face is sharp angles and rounded smoothness all at once childishly long lashes open on skeptical eyes soft curls of hair are smeared in spikes of gel
they stand with the angular, awkward beauty of that borderland of childhood uncomfortable in this new tallness
Driving - IIIIDriving - II
The sun is set, the colour is twilight, the air is soft and cool. It is the city, and the pavement is cracked, stained cigarettes are in the gutters. Cars turn the corner in a muted roar and crunch of gravel, accelerating straight to the horizon.
Two people are crossing the road.
An old man and an old woman shapes rounded by layers of clothes, tented in oversize winter coats fragile strands in a cloud of gray hair the old woman’s is longer (a
Driving - IIDriving - I
I was driving. (late, darkening sky, hum of the engine, tick-tick-tick-tick of the turning signal, silent bright circles of headlights flashing by white-red-white – green lights speeding overhead quiet rhythm of stop and start and turn-forward-back amid the blank colour of cars passing by/across/behind, merging and weaving in a
strange dance where no one knows his partner and
&nb
DoorwayIn the moving dark through spatters of feeble light there is a shining rectangle of white spilling out into the nightDoorway
It is bordered in shadows and shards of cracked glass like spiders’ lace
I come closer. What is this door? A portal to another world? Surely a better one.
see –
it's light is enough for us both and we have darkness for only one (with small lights)
I come closer. Should I step through? Does another await me (as I do them)?
Good Friday.I’m going to the funeral of my best friend. The car is silent. Downtown glows like a jewel, in the light of the setting sun; a sun so bright, so warm, so lovely, it must be unaware. We hum on, passing streets and cars and buildings and houses full of strangers who talk, eat, and sleep on. Oblivious.Good Friday.
I’m going to the funeral of my best friend. The parking lot is fuller than usual. I smile at those I don’t know as I climb out of the car, slide my messenger bag over my shoulder, bury my cold hands in the pockets of my trench coat. The
Addition of Stuff
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But, baby, you can't dance if there's no floor.
*shifty*
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--Catch-21--I'm going the opposite way.
beautiful drawing !!
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** Passion Higgledy-Piggledy **
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[my life as a hallelujah to his name. [link] ]
--
-Of-the-Sea
"His thoughts tumbled around in his head like underpants in a dryer without cling-free..."
--
[my life as a hallelujah to his name. [link] ]
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