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the stories will fall

05/10/2010

She slipped outside into the quiet while no one was looking, with her book tucked under her arm as if to guard it. She found a spot on the grass, way at the far end of the yard, with fair coverage, not too much dirt. She lied down. It was like carpet. On her back, with only the grey clouds humming above her, she could be nowhere in particular and everywhere at once. It was an immense cinema, a space for projection. She opened the book, unfolded the corner, and focused on the pages and just beyond. The words were linking ends, making chains and ladders, elaborate structures that would allow them to pull and lift and jump from the page. Fluid images appeared on the silver screen. She was just about halfway through when the words began to fall, splashing her cheeks and forehead, dampening the book’s soft cover. A pulpy mess subsided on her chest, but she wasn’t concerned. The pages might disappear, wash away, but the words would soak into and fertilise the ground, nurture new stories and eventually, again, bring colour to the world.

Find out more about this Hello Sunday moment.

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2 Comments leave one →
  1. Allyce permalink
    11/10/2010 10:10 am

    so I actually do this…although I tend to lie on a blanket rather then dirt!!

    • 15/11/2010 8:32 am

      That’s probably good thinking! Our other readers might do well to follow your lead. We’re happy we tapped into something shared though 🙂 Thanks for all the comments, Allyce. Always appreciated 🙂

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