Sunday, April 17, 2005

The air tasted like salt water.

This afternoon Sandra and I went, as normal, for a Sunday afternoon stroll. Except this time Sandra was walking with a piece of card with notes written on it. When we started walking up a steep hill; she paused, turned towards me and said...

"On friday the sky was filled with see-through clouds and the air tasted like salt water."

No comments:

...

.. It's in words that the magic is -- Abracadabra, Open Sesame, and the rest -- but the magic words in one story aren't magical in the next. The real magic is to understand which words work, and when, and for what; the trick is to learn the trick. ... And those words are made from the letters of our alphabet: a couple-dozen squiggles we can draw with the pen. This is the key! And the treasure, too, if we can only get our hands on it! It's as if - as if the key to the treasure is the treasure! ------- John Barth, Chimera