Trapped in a small dark space and no hope for rescue etc. Acclaimed author
explains that she walks to her writing desk filled with dread of death,
but then, writing keeps her from suicide. The movie ends with the old man
running naked across the desert, throwing arms up and shouting to the sky.

No more space for decorum.

The man who came to the house and was each person’s desire
and then left, leaving them holy, catatonic, dead, lost, awail. The little girl
told by her parents to sit and watch the fish like flashes of silver sunlight until
they returned, before they drove off never to return. Unshared beauty –

the swarming of thought the unforming of thought

– the breathtaking sunrise seen with legs dangling from a cliff. A solitary black rock
deep in a desert. The stone-cold eyes as she stares her down. The stone-cold eyes
of someone being turned away. Persisting guilt of some trivial and/or horrendous deed.
The focal point of crowds. The meta-stable ripple traversing thought. The wrinkles in skin –

a plastic bag indifferent (in)to the indifferent wind

–  sand pushed with toes thru the sand. The raisins in rising dough moving all away
from each other. S/he is not out of focus, s/he is a category blur. S/he trembles
like an animated figure. There are thousands of earthquakes per year,
but only a few are named. Leech – open wound. Camera – the broken humans.

An iceberg drifts toward Australia.

Indifferent plastic bag tugged at by indifferent wind. The play of lights on a massive wall
at dusk irreducible to an obvious point of origin. Flights of the Concorde, flight of the fish.
Does the solitary bird sense the absence of the flock? The uncanny ability of eyes
in crowded trains to find great interest in shoes and advertisements.

They had come long to this sea, with their hands trailing like hair.

The lipstick woman trained at making unfeigned faces for different occasions. The child
sticks out a sticky finger to puncture mother’s plastic skin and cellophane face. The delights
of a child: the mechanics of shoelaces, the lights on an escalator, the endless question. When
the boy learns about death he hurls his glass of milk against the kitchen wall.

They had come far to this sea with their hair drifting in the wind.

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