Wednesday, October 29, 2008
578. The Falling of a Leaf
As a leaf, paper thin, weightlessly quiet, flits on the gentle resistance of air's invisible carpet, a last conscious effort, a dance before mother, and father, childlike in escape, inevitable as falling rain, Em fell. Her gown flashed in the ruby explosion, snapshot captured like a ghost in lightning, a parachute of transparent cloth, living it seemed, to protect the one within from the descent of knee buckled, of blood rushed, eye a flutter, ear echoing, hair static rising. Her fingers crawled upward, a reaching for, toward, ever upward and not down, not to break the fall, but upward, following the eye, reaching, seeing what could not be seen, touching what could not be touched, an invisible union not of flesh or mind; and so upward they rose, a salutation of surrender, a kiss under the skin of lip, a hug of hearts, from two to one, as ice to water returned.
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14 comments:
How utterly lovely is the English language when used by those who have mastered it as thoroughly as you have. Incredibly vivid imagery, you always make me want to paint when I read a scene described within your writing such as here, that one moment as she falls and her gown billows like a parachute, lit in flash, descending to the floor, how clearly the scene appears in the mind's eye by way of your illustrations, the absolute and undisputed, in my book at least but I am sure everyone who has and does follow the story will agree, champion of metaphor and simile as I have said many times before your words like most words are images, but your combinations are bright, bold and large as any I have seen and just like the walls those every dozen paces or so. air's invisible carpet, it is phrases such as this one that show not only the vastness and quality but the innateness of your talent. Poetry. And a hug of hearts, from two to one is what I am going to dub a Poppet Classic. :-)
Image is a new favourite. And as for what is happening to Em, I've decided not to worry until I know something for sure. Too stressful otherwise. :-)
Written before I finished my first cup of coffee, while still in bed, before my conscious mind was in full gear. I was listening to R y G, letting the music and energy wash over me while holding the picture of Em in my mind. And this is what you get. :-D
um you wrote THAT before you finished your first cup of coffee, while still in bed, before you conscious mind was in full gear?
Okay. THAT'S impressive.
Meleah, I find it more interesting than impressive. Funny how the mind works, with our without us. :-D
I wish my mind would come back ON...soon
You write beautifully, even without coffee. Love this chapter: I like the way you describe Em falling.
Thanks Saffy. Kind words always appreciated. :-)
Meleah, one word: whiskey. Call me if you need help. :-D
Not bad writing while still in bed ;)
Here's another uber descriptive chapter, evoking images that form with ease, as seamless as a really good movie!
Got distracted by these warm and snuggly comments :)
I will read on but I am still worried that this is a scene describing Em's death.
As a leaf, paper thin, weightlessly quiet, flits on the gentle resistance of air's invisible carpet
Oh, my goodness.
Exquisite.
Thank you Strumper. :-)
Jen, never fear the cliff, for what my arms might miss, my heart will catch. ;-)
Deb, as always, thank you for the very kind words. :-)
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