Saturday, 1 March 2014

Rush hour.

Let me paint you a picture. A simple one really with an extraordinarily picturesque quality. It was a dream I had, though technically speaking; it can't be a dream. This image crept underneath my eyelids as I loitered in that phase between unconsciousness and reality. Its a simple picture really.

Imagine a waterfall, a huge one and entirely devoid of humanity. Imagine woods, green tall trees and bushes on either side. I was standing at the very edge of the fall. The water gushed past my feet at a tremendous speed, tickling my feet. It was intense. I was looking down at vast height underneath, staring at the water, so blue at my ankles turning a frothy white in a few seconds that it took to reach the ground below. It was pure; I could feel it as I inhaled. Some small splatters of the water sprayed on me. I was so close to falling but I didn't fall. Intense.