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Old 06-23-2018, 08:01 PM
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Grace Gabriel (Offline)
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Grace slowly picked at the keyboard with no appetite to write - her trigger finger tapping 'delete' like a woodpecker. And it wasn't the lack of things to say, but rather, the avalanche that one loud word could cause. She had learnt to be still over the years - her broken shards fused into glaciers that loomed in the backdrop of her life like Swiss scenery. Beautiful and distant. But everything she wrote seemed to echo like a pistol crack - so her words were silenced under the screeching tyres of a reversing cursor. She quit and went back to reading - watching Flea negotiate the rapids in a barrel. Listening for the waterfall. A chance, perhaps, that he'd wedge in the rocks awhile but ultimately the current never allows us to go back the way we came.. Outside, a lone bird took up its dawn call - as soft and lilting as a penny- whistle. The night was bleeding its colour like a paint brush thrown in the sink and she could see every detail of the fields and hedgerows emerge from a navy blue wash. And she'd lost time again - thinking the things she didn't write. Meaning the things she hadn't said. She would sleep now, with the new day safely gathered in.
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