Static on a TV screen tuned to an unused channel.
The flat white of a snow-covered parking lot with no cars.
Raindrops from a storm splashing on the surface of a lake.
Noon sunlight on a single puff of cloud in a clear sky.
“Clouds and rain and snow are all water,” the green witch said. “But
static on a TV screen is only technology.”
“Water turns into these things,” I said, “when acted upon
by the forces of nature. And a television screen
becomes an infinity of things when acted upon
by the force of a finger pressing a remote control.”
The green witch started to say something, but stopped, then started
to say something else, but stopped. She remained silent, thinking.
“Our lips can speak or not speak,” I said, “when acted upon
by the force of our mind pressing against our skin and bones.”
The green witch looked at the words silently, then looked at me.
For a moment we looked at each other without speaking.
Then the green witch said, “I’m thinking about what happens when
one person touches another person.” She stared at me.
“Did I just touch you?” I said. The green witch smiled. And she laughed.
A guitar is a mechanical approximation
of a synthesizer that can sound like any guitar.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Christmas Witches I Mean Wishes
Christmas Witches: A Present Of The Past
Christmas Witches: Ogres And Showgirls
No comments:
Post a Comment