My mother held my hand, an ancient togetherness reborn in that gentle grip.
Inspired by Violette.
These great beasts of metal and aching rubber gaskets bear us to debts we couldn’t even fathom. Their odd physics and angry nature embarrass us as we dine on fine foods and drink obnoxious cocktails in their guts.
Above the water’s edge we went, a friend, her child and myself, to an exhibition of live animals. The small turtles strolled merrily, the only mechanized part of them their shells and tails; the finches and budgerigars sang and yelled as if the sun had risen just for them; the cats purred as they strolled circles around small rivulets and water features. The room bristled with plants of executive varieties that filled the air with leaves larger than grown men, making infants of us all.
A dream snippet.