| THE DIVE inside of a fishbowl ensnared looking out somewhat sagacious, yet with that barrier between here and there.. feeling incredibly invincible, and soporifically serene. nothing, but nothing can touch her now. and at the same time so vaporously vulnerable that the slightest whisper of impending clamor splinters her to the very core of uncentered; IMMOBILIZED. an uncharted storm has arisen. it has developed quickly with winds searing through at hurricane velocity. by now this should be no surprise, but always manages to take her …down into the abyss as fragments of conversations from all points NORTH--EAST--SOUTH--WEST fuse, melding in volumes progressing further and further up decibels scale, toppling right off the charts, taking sense along for the dive. cartoon-like characters with overdrawn movements dominate the scene, shouting screaming nonsense robots, clowns and devils all, pushing her back, back, further back into the distance. fish swim up and down and around and around and around. nothing but nothing (not even a much needed something) nothing can touch her now. © Sarah Gallant, 2001-2002 |