Monday, November 24, 2008


For when all was said, and all was done—when our mouths were devoid of all words and our hearts of all proper feeling—we realised that what had happened was not so much a tragedy, in its richest sense, but more a "happening": in the same way a cloud might suddenly take a familiar form, or a childhood song appear on a stranger's lips.

We three remained on that cracked chalky stone, with the waves and sheer cliffs beneath us. On a ledge, below, just beyond farthest reach, sat a top hat, now separated from its owner by not only space but time.

1 comment:

Krissy Kneen said...

Kasper David Friedrich indeed.