Wednesday, November 19, 2008

Surrounding her were Chalk, Thread, Paper, Dark, and Number. As she had raised her hands, palms up in hallelujah, so had they. As she had lowered her head and the lids of her eyes in gratitude for her vision, so had they. If there was anything the children of the tremblen knew--it was that movement was life, not to be wasted, not to be ignored.

No comments: