Out of Place

 

 

 

I visualize the landscape-lonely and forbidding. I wonder where I am this time, within my dream-world. Surely a not pleasant place though it holds a certain mystery. I think of myself, how alone, different, isolated I have always been. Suddenly, I recognize my attraction to the picture. The salt mound or is it sandstone-worn but still surviving, like me. Present, but not seeming to belong there.

 

Drawing one’s eye, inviting one to explore it, see what it is made of. One would think as their hand ran gently down the surface. Never quite fitting the world it is part of.

 

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8 Responses so far »

  1. 2

    Dear Brenda,

    It’s good to see you here. Lovely prose, tinged with pain and loneliness. I’m sending the narrator a hug.

    Shalom,

    Rochelle

  2. 4

    Brenda, I’m sending a hug, too. Nice to see you again.

    janet

  3. 5

    Lindy Lee said,

    Touches the soul– you’ve condensed the perplexities of our human condition, the pulling of the mental poles in opposite directions; very good use of unexpected, unique metaphor, BeeBee…

  4. 6

    A well-written story expressing lonliness. Good descriptions.

  5. 7

    …and the title is perfect.


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