I fly...
Flipping and twirling through the breeze as light as a feather. I spin as the sun's light moves through me, casting my faint, fuzzy shadow on the ground. As the wind dies I land softly on the pavement, tumbling about with my whispery shuffling, dancing in the wind. A man grabs me, filling me with object both solid and liquid, and some grossly in-between. He tears at my flesh, bright red lines of blood spewing forth to serve his purposes. I am tossed, my white skin now projecting a darker shadow from the pollution rammed inside of me, stained odd colors from various things that reak various disgusting smells. Thrown away, like refuse, I am captured by giant metal teeth, crushed and broken. No more shall I dance, and feel the sun move through me.
No more shall I fly.
Author notes
This beautiful, dancing thing is a trash bag, a white one with red drawstrings. It flew and danced in its own simplicity, then was used and discarded. This really has no meaning other then my experimentation of becoming something in-animate. If you guessed, congrats. Few so far have been able to.
Written November 4th, 2004
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Comments
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Lovely. I got the trash bag bit, but I didn't go as far as to say it had red-drawstrings. I can't think of anything else to say other than to repeat that it's lovely.
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wow... this was.. i dont know.. this was great.. written on something that would seem almost impossible to write about.. yet you made it seem so complex and great.. wonderful imagery.. beautifully writte... i really enjoyed it.. good job.. keep it up
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wow this was really incredible
seriously beautiful write with marvellous imagery
well done
B
xxx
ps. i didnt guess it! ah well!
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