Just A Moment

A-Z Part J:
In which a splash becomes most reflective

Tap water refracts from each plate, splashes the draining board, the dry dishes not yet put away, the windowsill, Claire’s t-shirt. Lines of droplets race down the windowpane. Claire lets them run to conclusion before she wipes the cloth over. She looks out at the precise shadows playing on the ground under the ash tree. The sun, as she understands it, is a sphere of burning gas. Not poetic sounding. But she thinks of how fire burns in a grate, the hiss and twist of escaping gases, the unexpected colours, how ornate and snaky. She sweeps the floor, unsure of when the softly snoring cherub will awake. 


Sometimes after reading your posts, I don't have any other comment but an implied happy sigh. Hope that is ok.
Lisa Southard said…
Heather, that is so much more than okay. It is a perfect compliment, thank you very much :-)
Suze said…
I feel weird intruding on this beautiful conversation with you and Heather.

I love, 'the sun, as she understands it ...'
Lisa Southard said…
Not an intrusion, Suze, a most welcome addition! I am being terrible at visiting other blogs, am lucky anyone is talking to me at all- but April is a bowled over month! I will make a mad dash at visiting when times are more sedate! :-)
Teresa Cypher said…
Moving right along. Your prose is so rich.

And duh! I just realized that you have your name up there, Lisa. I knew you from other sites, but I'm a bit leery if someone is using an alias, to use another name I might know them by.

Lisa it shall be. :-)

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