Friday, October 16, 2009
Friday, October 2, 2009
I am on a beach. I am on a bicycle. I am wearing a deep sea suit. She looked beautiful as she stood on her toes to kiss me. Or at least to kiss the glass of my helmet, the glass between us. All I could hear was my breathing. I said Good Bye and the sound of my voice echoed sharply into my skull and shocked me like a wet finger had broken the voltage in my veins. I cried as I rode into the sea. The tremendous echo shattered like glass glaciers crashing into a midnight cathedral.
The sea was electric and bright as the sun. There was no color. I do not know if it was hot or cold. The voltage in my veins calmed a little as I rode deeper and deeper, the deepness came on so brightly that I began to see spots like inky spiders crowd my vision. The tides tore away my bicycle, my air tank, my vision. I was left alone in my midnight cathedral, the painful echo of my solitary breathing painfully crashing like jagged shards into my eardrums.