Object Writing, Prose & Poetry Forum

September 20, 2019, 06:55:12 PM
Welcome, Guest. Please login or register.
Did you miss your activation email?

Login with username, password and session length
This week's words;

Sunday - Instructions

Monday- Motorcycle

Tuesday- Wildflower

Wednesday- Asparagus

Thursday- Stopwatch

Friday - Confetti

Saturday-Homesick



Word of the Day
Pages: [1]
  Print  
Author Topic: Fountain - Object Writing July 12  (Read 801 times)
0 Members and 1 Guest are viewing this topic.
Paul
Administrator
Hero Member
*****
Posts: 2115



View Profile WWW
« on: July 12, 2008, 12:57:56 AM »

Resting on a granite edge of a circular pool, water is hissing and gurgling from an outlet above me surging and pulsing with precious liquid, droplets cascade and plip and plop into a wavering surface beneath which are a thousand silver eyes, winking between the waves, children are magnetically attached to the edge of the spectacle, looking at all that wishing money that's been thrown in, thinking there's so much, thinking they could just dive in in a summer pool moment. The moment where the shock of the new hits hard, where temperature differential scalds you with ice as you readjust to the water, the same blue  bottom as the fountain.

Chlorine in your nose tickles when it's gone the wrong way, stinging, slapping your senses, the -g-lunking- sound as water is stuck in your ears and you try to shake it out. Carnival atmosphere shouts and screams of friends as you flick towels at each other on the lush green hill. The days before drought. The grass a prickly carpet as you walk down to the shop to get an ice cream or a sunny boy; opening up the mysterious triangle and sucking the flavoured ice, tongue going numb lips and tongue going a shade of red or green depending which type you buy. The white hot concrete making you hop before getting back to the safety of the grass and the safe island of the towel strung out near some trees. The days before global warming and the ozone hole. Fear of the deep end.  jelly like fear beyond the six foot mark - stay to the sides, hands linked into the lip of the pool water lapping  and licking the sides.
Logged

Vis
Pages: [1]
  Print  
 
Jump to: