fishyfeet13
When I see the crane, I see beauty. A beautiful, slender body perched precariously on slender legs. It's like the world, like life. Beautiful, but precarious. I cannot help but watch.
I picked up my skirts and slipped my foot into the water. The waves were cool and smooth against the sandy bottom of my foot. I breathed. If my mother caught me, she'd have my head. This wasn't the way young ladies were supposed to act. Barefoot and breathing. Exposed.
As he held my hand, I couldn' help but think about the miracle of it all. He holds my hand, I hold his. We're both holding on to each other. We both want to keep each other close. What greater miracle can there be?
There is something otherworldly about trains. An allusion to the past, when trains were more widely-used, or to a steady westward motion, and the mystery and anticipation involved. You'd half expect them to trail fairy dust. Or industrial coal.
writing since 2011 · 4 entries · 4 days shown up
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trainshandhelpmiraclefootbeautifulslenderotherworldlyallusionpastwidelysteadywestwardmotionmysteryanticipation