Another brilliant piece from a GUNNAS WRITING MASTERCLASS writer.
The dream is to find yourself, to re-invent the more confident, indestructible you.
Finding your way through the haze of daily practice in the hope that this will make sense, sense to someone other than you…
She stretched her feet forward, a live anchor in a make shift bed drifting out to the sea of a wooden floor, wild flowers & tulips cosy over long legs & fidgeting toes.
Waste scattered high above money’s paper bills, supplies & a nest of candles floated in familiar prose, senseless & lonesome.
Her blunted fingers grappled by her meaty sides, withdrawing a cigarette from a crumpled pack, lucky to survive. Lighting it tenderly, a smoking light in a billowy deep blue sea.
“Geez, I better have my head examined, entering the night sky like this”..
Two worn hands cupped
Sea so big & terrible, falling through her 10 worn fingers.
A tickle of heat running her pulse in fear, slipping farther & farther out…