Tuesday, August 28, 2007

~Untitled 15 by Fran~


The train lazily wound its way up mountain passes. The air was clear - almost shimmering. The sky was a blue that one associated with renaissance madonnas, but that reminded me of the color of the rarer form of cotton candy.
For hours, we slowly made our way. I was exhausted beyond belief. Days of walking and wandering in the high altitudes of the Andes left me breathless and tired, both physically and emotionally.
On the train I would doze off, only to be disturbed by a well intended but annoying waitress. Did I want more coffee? Water? Some food?
No. All I wanted was healing. Consolation. Peace.
Two days earlier, when I was in no position to go home, I saw on TV that the levees broke.
My city, my home- gone.
I could only do this one thing and carry on.
***A similar moment shared by many. Nice snapshot.***

2 comments:

Comrade Kevin said...

I pulled the camera out after we had yet again come to an unexpected stop.

We would later learn that an elderly woman had been severely bruised by a defective sleeper bed. Apparently it collapsed with her lying across it, throwing her violently to the floor. This was confirmed by my girlfriend who saw an official-looking person paying out several hundred dollars in cash to avoid the nuisance of having to report the claim to the government.

It was fortunate that we came to a screeching halt at a particularly aesthetically pleasing section of Upper Slandovia. Train malfunctions are common in his nation of 1.5 million people. Instead of those of us accustomed to capitalism's expediency and general accuracy, the people here are used to delays. It gives them an opportunity to ponder how many acres of grain need to be threshed for the fall harvest.

As I speak no Slandovian, their jabbering voices come across as musically lilting but little else.

FranIAm said...

The train lazily wound its way up mountain passes. The air was clear - almost shimmering. The sky was a blue that one associated with renaissance madonnas, but that reminded me of the color of the rarer form of cotton candy.

For hours, we slowly made our way. I was exhausted beyond belief. Days of walking and wandering in the high altitudes of the Andes left me breathless and tired, both physically and emotionally.

On the train I would doze off, only to be disturbed by a well intended but annoying waitress. Did I want more coffee? Water? Some food?

No. All I wanted was healing. Consolation. Peace.

Two days earlier, when I was in no position to go home, I saw on TV that the levees broke.

My city, my home- gone.

I could only do this one thing and carry on.