1] Event Horizon
She writes of her feelings in prose so dense that a hundred suns worth of it could be stuffed into a single thimble. Her words push on each other so fiercely they fuse together, then begin to collapse upon themselves. A sentence of them exerts tidal effects. A paragraph is a literary back hole. Nothing escapes the page. Not truth. Not Light. Not meaning. Everything disappears down the rabbit role and is lost to the known world. Pity.
She writes of her feelings in prose so dense that a hundred suns worth of it could be stuffed into a single thimble. Her words push on each other so fiercely they fuse together, then begin to collapse upon themselves. A sentence of them exerts tidal effects. A paragraph is a literary back hole. Nothing escapes the page. Not truth. Not Light. Not meaning. Everything disappears down the rabbit role and is lost to the known world. Pity.
2] Imhotep’s Daughter
It’s a novice creation, a skewed wonder, an imperfect perfection. She lacks the words to paint her vision, so she piles what words she has one upon the other. It’s an ambitious project, yet the engineering is off. Like Djoser’s first pyramid, the angle of assent is wrong; and the weight of her words presses down on her readers like a beautiful mountain of stone. She knows what she wants to say, yet hasn’t the skill to build a lasting structure. Not yet.
3] Carousel Ride
The words go round and round; a carousel ride of unfocused images, whirling in and out of sight. One porcelain pony chases another. Screaming children and bored parents slip in and out of the moment over and over again. It’s all color and sound, a cinematic illusion, a computer generated nightmare. Lovely woman, lovely mind, lovely language: the trip is dazzling, but ultimately unsatisfying. Personally, I’d rather ride the roller coaster.
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