Thick smoke rises from a machine-rolled cigarette. Fan blades slice repeatedly through the stagnant opaque air. Screens from floor to ceiling surround and encompass a woman slouching toward them in a worn leather chair. Three candles flicker but are swallowed by the illumination just beyond their flame. Each screen has been split into sixteen boxes and each of those boxes has a different illusion playing on a loop for seven rotations. Then each illusion is switched for one new and different, and again looped seven times. Her eyes, heavy-glossed, blink with electric dots of complex-colored lights. Her mouth hangs open motionless, almost wide. Through the windows she would hear her daughter laughing, playing, dancing outside. Spinning circles in the golden-shimmer cascade brilliant sunlight. She would hear her, but she cant, shes frozen, stolen, lost alone inside. Suddenly as if a dream her little fragile beauty queen floats through the dark room carrying a fresh-picked daisy, smiling. Pig tails held by turquoise ribbons. Muddy feet mosquito bitten. Summer dress with purple mittens. Grass-stained. ((Modern Freestyle Freeform Vision.))
Posted on: Mon, 25 Aug 2014 03:40:17 +0000
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