There’s that drawn out catalytic moment between admission and reaction keeping figures apart in this pristine black granite topped kitchen in the suburbs. And seconds marked by a clock on the wall tick out every despairing moment of confusion, shock, numbness and relief in slow mo.
And they’re sitting eyes fixed on him as he’s looking down at the manicured lawns and immaculate houses beyond while Johnny Bristol’s Hang On In There Baby plays out across the scene from an upstairs window.
Slow down, speed up.


Bee said...

massive amounts of respect for this if i understand rightly. brave <3

Ben said...

Ooh! Black granite - sounds lovely. Any pictures?

(I agree with Bee.)

Nicholas said...

I love you. You know that, right?

Jack said...

I really must make more of an effort to read your blog. I have it bookmarked but I hardly ever check it. I have been feeling this, if I am thinking along the same lines, recently too.

Ben said...

Come back to us!

Mademoiselle Flattery said...

So it's official now? :( can't say im not slightly bummed out... but happy for you still :)

ps: hey stranger.