1 The constraints: 1) No more than
one hour. 2) No more than 20 lines.
The result ? Genius or Not.


06 September 2010

By Kate Lermitte Campbell | 2010 September 06

You see me, perhaps, before I see you, but nothing’s certain as I lift my head and look and see someone searching for something by the anaemic stickman on the all but out exit sign.  

“So glad you came,” falls flat amongst the vibrations of the trains below. I smile? Perhaps, though it breaks my heart to leave the poor thing there with his dying light-bulb heart.  

The escalator is conducive to role-play: the hero haloed rises before the eyes of his adoring – “oh the sun’s gone down.” The glow above, filtered through his head loses its yellow in luminous pools bordered by reed-like lashes. “I’d forgotten how – ” (Beautiful?) “Take my hand”. “How long have – ” “You – ” been scrubbing the floor of your mind for it to come up with such a (“Not long”) antique shine?  

“Autumn”. “Lets drop in here”. We drop. Down again for the place is underwater and blue light flaps insubstantial as the music over the plastic lacquer. Played through glass it’s lost its edge, caught amidst the tendrils suspended between the Chinese bridge, the pagoda and the imitation cave.  

Your silhouette softens and you float like a piece of salt-smoothed timber from an ancient ship. “Champagne?” Yes, nothing else will do for a royal launch and though it’s not yet safe to surface we mustn’t lose sight of the sky.  

You love to catch things unawares you say and point to a whisper in an adjoining room caught unwittingly in the mirror behind the frozen glass bubbles.  

It isn’t us there, is it? I turn but the reflection isn’t reciprocated by the doorframe and the mirror behind the glasses has gone blank. There you are though, your head to one side as you watch me twist in the net of our conversation. I say “I hunt shadows,” and redress the balance with my hand pressed firmly in the projected hollow of your back before it slithers behind the bar.  

Circling like snorklers we test the resistance of the water with each gesture gently.  

For the moment neither one of us wants to disturb the sand.

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