A whiff of freshly drunk wine spills from Susan’s breath as she speaks. The stranger and Ben smell it but say nothing. Her speech rattles on like a freight train out of control. She cries I have to stop, but can’t. The stranger says if I may ask, stop what? She says the lies , the drinking, the excuses the pain. Ben looks on like a child looking into a kaleidoscope for the first time. Where did that come from he thinks, and how did we get there, I can help exclaims the stranger. They wait.
A view too the cross through a new pair of glasses. Follow along and watch the plot thicken as I post each week.
Sunday, January 24, 2016
Kaleidascope
A whiff of freshly drunk wine spills from Susan’s breath as she speaks. The stranger and Ben smell it but say nothing. Her speech rattles on like a freight train out of control. She cries I have to stop, but can’t. The stranger says if I may ask, stop what? She says the lies , the drinking, the excuses the pain. Ben looks on like a child looking into a kaleidoscope for the first time. Where did that come from he thinks, and how did we get there, I can help exclaims the stranger. They wait.
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