the breeze flows fluently and true, and for a moment, a fleeting second in between now and then, life, and reality seem like a suspended second, a moment, or a drug. The moment is petrified, and terrifyingly beautiful. And all the occupants of this serene painting feel like they are in a children’s lullaby. Salt drifts through the air,
The wind spoke for the both of them for a while. It played with their hair. It danced for them, and carried exotic melodies of joy, and sorrow for them to hear
he hushes her and places his finger over her soft pink lips.
The woman holds tightly onto her long brimmed hat
She did not understand. He stared out to sea with vacant familiarity
He looks like he knows something,
She handed it to him. He crumpled it back up, and put it away
I had somehow wandered into some ancient, decadent... and degraded feeding frenzy! This pestilent pack of rabid bastards were resorting to their most primordial, and antediluvian animal instincts. In that moment in time, they were nothing more than stupid, fiendish apes, indulging in idol worship. And there god was a novel.
People walk on planks of wood suspended out into the bay, it’s almost night...