8.25.2009

crivo.


Honora commences stumbling home; it seems to be a developing theme.

Dr. Physician resolves to keep an eye on it.
The woman is not unlike a vacuum. 

Stumble.

She needs to find the brakes; she needs to locate her lungs and recall how to breathe.

“The air was thick with false starts and dead ends. She never finished what she began, everyone knew this. The pervasive humidity was drawing to a point, and it would soon rain down insecurities. Fortified by the poisonous precipitation, complications would begin to push through the arid soil, reaching their grotesque appendages toward the acid sky.”

She stares intently at the page.
The combinations and arrangements of letters don’t make sense to her.
Yet.

She’ll study and scrutinize until they do.

Until then, shadows in the corner,
always shadows in the cupboards.