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Ailinn
Windchimer

2154 Posts

Posted - 11/30/2017 :  21:41:29  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
At the edge of the canvas he painted her blurred. Barefoot. Ankle deep in green water. Her skirts hiked up. Her hair falling. Falling. Only her waving hand showing through. A Dream In the Reeds, he called it. "Only one thing for certain..." he said, (and he spread his wings wide here) "...comes in every color." How he loved the story in the margins.

Edited by - Ailinn on 11/30/2017 22:25:58
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San Diego
Swinger

508 Posts

Posted - 12/17/2017 :  14:59:18  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
“Save the children, save the children, cried the Captain to the crew.”
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2154 Posts

Posted - 12/17/2017 :  15:11:21  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Heart-driven years under The Sign and The Cross. The mineral hills in the distance. Sky the unimaginable blue of old View Master reels. The fervent earth spinning around them. His quirky magic. His paper-cut soul. The boundless design in his mind. His white shirt shining turned up at the cuffs. The tyranny of time ticking out of his wrists. The candles going down to stubs. Oh, the stones turn and murmur, don’t they. The tide drags its coarse salt over the shore.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2154 Posts

Posted - 12/30/2017 :  15:23:39  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply

The first morning Eve wakes beside Adam, Adam winks. Trouble before they begin.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2154 Posts

Posted - 12/30/2017 :  15:27:21  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
He likes aerial shots of the bay and embarcadero. The sloops neat in the curve of the Coronado Bridge. He likes the Lilac Road Rainbow over Interstate 15. Its many arched photos over the desk. And there, tucked in a corner, the Goat Canyon Trestle. "Just a little accordion embroidery..." he says.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2154 Posts

Posted - 12/30/2017 :  15:33:04  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Midnight with the dinosaurs at Wheel Inn off the 10. "No accident," he says, "I don't believe in 'em." His gaze so grave she shivers. "The American," she calls him sometimes. Leans in on his word. A quiet life in a deep-harbor city. Salt and sealight in a white-washed room. A stop at the post office to collect the mail. A hold-out key in a jar for the chimes. Inviolate time in the garden. Later she crushes an aspirin tablet and drops it in a vase of flowers.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2154 Posts

Posted - 01/07/2018 :  19:15:30  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Country road past the reservoir and power plant all wonder and blue vapor sky. (Nothing faux in that thimble-size town.) "No dark books, baby. No bad cards..." They're leaving the bladed places. The hot doors and windows. The sun-stained sky radiant with smog. The low chord of longing on the other end of the land line. It's a singular story. Duct tape and safety flares. "...ya know what I'm sayin," he says. Word-for-word in the next century.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2154 Posts

Posted - 01/07/2018 :  19:21:14  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Roiling clouds. The whole wet sky. West wind taking the palms down. He's on the curves with the radio cutting out. Wipers not up to the job. They were people who boarded a ship in the middle of the night cold in their clothes in a saint's seaside city. Deck slick with rain under storm-kindled sails. Waves all foam and glitter. "Do this for me," he said.

His dusty lashes sweep his cheeks when he dreams of pirates water.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2154 Posts

Posted - 01/15/2018 :  17:32:02  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
There are plans underway to repair the Desert Line which includes the Goat Canyon Trestle. The line that connects with the Baja Rail Mexico Line at Tijuana. Crosses and re-crosses the border near Campo. Runs through Carrizo Gorge, seventeen tunnels and fifty-seven bridges to Plaster City. It will offer an alternate route for goods made in Mexico into the U.S. and eliminate much traffic on Interstate 5. Double stack rail containers take down the trolley lines so they have to ship everything from San Diego to Long Beach and Los Angeles by truck now. Always a sea of semis waiting several hours to cross. The Trestle Bridge itself is a wonder. Like a two hundred feet high macramé wall hanging against the Anza Borrego sky. I'd like to pitch a tent and stay out there through the repairs.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2154 Posts

Posted - 01/15/2018 :  17:43:50  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Keys left on the counter. The last light turned off. The van behind them listing to port on the S curves. The road flattening out along the coast. Too much fog? Too close to the water? "Hell, no!" he laughed, rearranging logs on the grate. The tinkering thing, she called it. He believed in the now and the present. Each and every one of them. Matched their lifelines on the tabletop under the cream-shade lamp that dimmed and brightened on its own. "Ghost in the mirage," he said.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2154 Posts

Posted - 01/21/2018 :  15:37:39  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Overheard conversation on a plane in the clouds. "Well... They have a future. And a past. And half the transplants in Tucson are in WITSEC anyway. All that dark window glass. It's how the end game plays out." A rent in the cumulus envelope. A lurch in the troposphere. A perihelion disturbance, the end game. The time machine in his DNA ticking too fast. Each astonishing moment.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2154 Posts

Posted - 01/21/2018 :  15:46:09  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
The village women standing with candles when he emptied his pockets. All those U.S. dollars on the ground. That picture. Useless to bribe the gatekeeper. And later... A tray of sweet conchas to make them feel better about things.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2154 Posts

Posted - 01/21/2018 :  15:52:09  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
He held her so still with his look. Just reached in and took hold of her mind, she said. The way he saw and said things. His voice around for hours those decades at the watery edge. North American harbors shiny with fish and container ships floating foreign treasure. She stood ankle-deep in an incoming tide. Felt it pull out again. Inevitably getting in deeper. You know how it is. The glyphs on the heart. The sear of stars.
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San Diego
Swinger

508 Posts

Posted - 01/25/2018 :  17:53:32  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
They're removing the pipeline ships used to offload oil to the Encina Power Plant. The new plant runs on natural gas. A barge is cutting it in sections and hauling it to Long Beach for disposal. They're also removing the rock jetty and the four hundred foot high smoke stack. A landmark for fifty-plus years. Many easels on the blufftops trying to capture a last 2018 image against the sky. From land and sea...the coastline's silhouette will change forever.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2154 Posts

Posted - 01/25/2018 :  18:01:57  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Detours. Ribboning blue over the Bay. Downslope. Cindery footpath and a wilder walk to the sea where the steep cliffs can't stand still. The curved ocean cleaving under cloud skein. "Write me a letter," he said crossing that bridge. Flowers at the Post Office before Forever stamps. Birds. Inventions. The American Frontier. Spacious skies. Amber waves of grain. The hand leading the Cavalry charge.

Edited by - Ailinn on 05/06/2019 17:35:21
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2154 Posts

Posted - 01/30/2018 :  16:37:07  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
One sidetracked morning. "...hahaha, don't count your chickens..." he's laughing with a dozen broken eggs on the floor. "Okay, okay..." he's still laughing, "There's this place... How 'bout we take a ride down there right now." The grain silos fly by on the passenger side. The mile-long boat and RV storage yards. Towering power lines and rolling brown hills dust-bright in Santa Ana. County-long mirages burned on her retinas on a never-ending road.

Edited by - Ailinn on 01/30/2018 16:58:50
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2154 Posts

Posted - 01/30/2018 :  16:43:27  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
How cold it was close to that bridge in spite of the felt weather stripping. The curtains lifted and fell to the sills. And the wind prayed all night through the shingles. A five octave scale of prayer. Gas was cheaper than electricity so the depended on the stove. He'd put a match to the pilot light and sit with his back to the open oven door. She'd keep her hands safety-high over steam from the kettle. Later he held her face in his hands. His thumbs resting on her cheekbones as if they might poke through.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2154 Posts

Posted - 01/30/2018 :  16:47:07  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
He opened his eyes and he closed them. He knew where he was. The bright spots blossoming in the kitchen. The spangled windows postcard view. The same as yesterday. A house so full of sunshine she never took her sunglasses off. What happened and what they thought happened. Even they couldn't agree.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2154 Posts

Posted - 02/07/2018 :  18:14:12  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
"Spell of remembrance," he calls the game they're playing. "Trapeze," she says. "For weeks in my sleep. Flinging myself through the air. Some music. Some terror. No net. Grab the bar. Let go. Somersault. Land on the tiny platform leaning over the crowd's miniature faces." He's cleaning the windshield. The movie in his mind making him pause with the squeegee. "...fly an' look down through the trees," he says, and he closes his eyes, "...see the tracks...see the road...how far it goes... All of it. Happening. Some nights...I got to bed early to fly. You can, ya know. If you remember...
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2154 Posts

Posted - 02/07/2018 :  18:22:20  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
"One more thing I want you to think about now, an' it's...it's...it's..." he said in full daylight. "You have the right to remain silent," she said, "anything you say can and will be...hahaha..." There's a rusting freight car sidelined on the edge of an antique town. A tin man tower. A bandstand gazebo. Just a whistle-stop really. A blink of the eye.
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