make a little drawbridge in your soul
Sep. 9th, 2002 02:11 pmI was just reaching the bridge when a sailboat blew its horn, one long, one short. Wanting to get back, wanting to keep whizzing through the air, I made my mind up that I'd keep going if the light hadn't changed by the time I got to it. It was yellow. I stopped.
I crossed the road once cars had stopped and all the gates were down. Well, I needed to be over here, I silently challenged the drivers (who were looking at me a little oddly, or maybe their eyes wanted stimulation after the scenery's sudden stop). I took up my station just forward of the shadow-band cast by the bridge's proscenium, next to a bouncing, dripping, shiny man who held his white shirt wadded up in one hand.
There were half a dozen sailboats waiting, most of them coming from seaward. As the bridge reached its highest extension, it just barely blocked the sun from my eyes, and I dreamed I could see wild shapes in the corona, like flames painted on the front of a car.
I crossed the road once cars had stopped and all the gates were down. Well, I needed to be over here, I silently challenged the drivers (who were looking at me a little oddly, or maybe their eyes wanted stimulation after the scenery's sudden stop). I took up my station just forward of the shadow-band cast by the bridge's proscenium, next to a bouncing, dripping, shiny man who held his white shirt wadded up in one hand.
There were half a dozen sailboats waiting, most of them coming from seaward. As the bridge reached its highest extension, it just barely blocked the sun from my eyes, and I dreamed I could see wild shapes in the corona, like flames painted on the front of a car.