Wednesday, July 10, 2013



They stood motionless, looking at the sun, seriously, attentively, concerned. Desperate, they thought of the children, their futures, their bodies shedding fatally, their skins peeling from the toxic air. Somehow, this critical sacrifice seemed to be their last resort. There they stood in the white water, motionless and waiting, a world of beliefs about to be tested, a perfect sculpture of life, naked, fragile, lonely. They had never felt more alive.
Writer's Dash

Note: The picture (above) that triggered this text was taken during a virtual art performance I took part in organized by Vanessa Blaylock. For more, click VB49:SPF50.


  1. What a lovely piece of writing. In both Words and Windlight (haha) you got to places I hadn't thought of! :)

    1. Thank you, Van! One of the wonders of writing with an image as a starting point is being able to "fly" in so many different directions. While we were standing at LEA11, feet in the water, motionless, we looked like we were waiting for something huge to happen, suspended in time! That thought started this text. :)