Em swung her bare feet off the bed and with hands anchored on the edge of the mattress, lifted herself to the cold floor. She wore no makeup, her hair tied behind her head, uncombed. Plain of face as plain of gown, she walked to the window, lips slightly parted in the sight before her wide eyes.Without sound, two young girls laughed and danced, hands in leash, pulled forth by tongues wagging as dogs in cool weather pull forth in unbridled joy, eyes flashing, tails as flags, hunches lean in sprint. Em watched the girls in ballet, skirts twirling, smiles quick and easy, leashes tangling and untangling, a choreograph of innocence where steps are light and the hour is an eternity.
Still, she stood, Em. Still of body, still as night, still as the heart of parent before child on stage, the kind of stillness one only knows to know after the stillness is gone. She watched without blinking, without moving, without thinking. Green grass, autumn wheat dogs, white dresses.
Round the tree they ran, ponytails bouncing with kite bows, a touch of color, timbre resonant. The fall sky, cloudless faded blue, domed. Harder they ran, the dogs, playing in harmony with their masters, hearts pure, hearts loved and from within flowed without, witnessed in visage, known in countenance.
Statue quiet, the scene played within Em's mind, memories flickering celluloid matching the vision enacted before the stage of her window. Floating, the feeling felt, floating above the girls, watching over them as the wind in the tree.
12 comments:
If this chapter had/has a soundtrack:
Sting, Fields of Gold
Several particularly delightful phrases within that I simply cannot sleep if I do not mention
anchored to the mattress
...plain of gown - not really sure why I like that so much, the gentle rhyme perhaps lending that special appeal
hands in leash
in ballet
a choreograph of innocence where steps are light and the hour is an eternity
and I have to stop there for I would quote almost, make that entirely, the rest of this chapter. The flow is unhindered, the scene crisp and colourful and vivid, I very much like the use of the term celluloid as it ties back to choreograph and as Em before the window, plain gown, plain face, unmoving, watching, in a sterile room, a hospital room, white, pale one imagines her to be, sickly, silent, still and before her is the screen, the outside, large, colourful, sound, vibrant, alive, youth, play, love, love in action. The last part could almost be a description of an out-of-body experience, more of a wish in this case were it so, but the writing in this last part especially is pure poetry. Tone is prominent throughout however, an exceedingly pleasant melody flowing over the words as they are used, the many 'o's may account for that, stood, body, before, one only knows to know gone, without, moving, round, ponytails, bouncing, bows colour, resonant, cloudless, domed, loved, flowed, known. Perhaps. Certainly it seems so when I read those passages that this is at least partially the reason why the tone is so melodically smooth and full (expansive, sweeping). I know not, nor shall I attempt further to pinpoint how or why, all I do know, or at least imagine, is that the non-English speaker hearing if not understanding this flow of words would find it as lovely, as pleasing. Bless you for using words such as timbre and visage, like butterfly kisses upon the stomach they are utterly delightful, frissons of the shivers on account of a single word, gotta love language that can induce response to words that can stand singular with the spotlight on sound moreso than meaning. Late, perhaps more tomorrow, but if not it all amounts to awe and appreciation of your great writing skill, of your ability to paint with words once again shown so well.
Sweetest, you are a writer's dream; and mine too. :-)
love this post!
i posted a new blog today... would you honor me with your opinions please?
-Rusty J
"Still of body, still as night, still as the heart of parent before child on stage, the kind of stillness one only knows to know after the stillness is gone"
That was AAAAAAAMMMMMAAAAAAAZING
Thank you birthday girl. :-)
I think this has become one of my favorite chapters. Your writing is so rich with description. It evokes so much wonderful imagery. And the fractal is the icing on the cake.
I really really love this one.
Did I mention that I love it?
Deb, what a wonderful comment to launch my weekend. Thank you for the very kind words. Hope you and Mark have a great weekend. :-)
That is an unusual Metaphysical Conceit; dancing girls like frisking dogs!
Well, I'm trying to avoid to many cliches. :-D
Love that you incorporated ballet into the description of girls playing. I can picture it well, the perfection and the accuracy of their joy! Ballet often seems so perfect, and what a brilliant way to describe the perfection of their playing!
Thanks Jen. All the best to your Tide this weekend. :-)
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