“Sights” – Stillness of sky. Stillness of lake. Joined in reflection. Clouds blown together, clouds blown apart. Spider, fly, eater and eaten, diner and dinner, survivor and snack… joined in reflection.
Tag: web comics
“Morton’s Pond” (XXV)
“Sights” – Fly in web. Struggling. Spider waiting.
“Morton’s Pond” (XXII)
“Sounds” – I talked to Pablo about deer ticks and he told me their full name is “ixodes scapularis” and that they drink an animal’s blood four to five days before letting go. He said they can spread lyme disease, but that humans are more susceptible than donkeys. Maybe that’s why there aren’t as many humans in the woods. Maybe now that I know more about deer ticks, they will be less interested in biting me.
“Morton’s Pond” (XIX)
“Sounds” – Another day with Pablo. Listening to him talk to me and listening to me talk to him. I could also hear Bonny and Ditto by the lake. I think they were painting because I could smell the paint. There were large patches of silence between the words they were saying. Or maybe the patches of silence were when I was listening to Pablo or myself talk.
“Morton’s Pond” (XVIII)
“Sounds” – The echo of an axe. Pablo. I helped him stack wood in the shed behind his cabin. He said I should gather some.
“Blurtso hears a whisper” (XI)
Harlan? said Blurtso. Yes? said Harlan. Do you ever get frightened? Frightened? said Harlan. Yes, said Blurtso. Sometimes, said Harlan. Why? said Blurtso. Well, said Harlan, when you consider how fragile things are–life, love, happiness–and how they’re certain to vanish, and the nothingness that follows, it’s natural to be frightened… but you can still be optimistic. You can? said Blurtso. Sure, said Harlan, we still have a tin of chocolate, and plenty of whipped cream.
“Ditto finds a pencil” (III)
Where’s your pencil? said Virginia. I left it at home, said Ditto. What about the museum, said Virginia, and the tourists and audio phones? I’m not going to do it, said Ditto. Why? said Virginia. I like Concord the way it is. Yes, said Virginia, the library, the cemetery, the inn, and the friendly people at the Main Street Café—it’s a nice town, and more traffic might spoil it. Yes, said Ditto, and encourage someone to put a stop light on Main Street.
“Morton’s Pond” (XVII)
“Tastes” – Thinking about eating. Me eating grass. Clouds eating colors. Sounds eating sounds and ticks eating me… even thoughts eating thoughts. Everything a big circle of eating.
“Morton’s Pond” (XVI)
“Sounds” – My breath. Panting as I propped up the walls of my shelter. I didn’t even hear the train to Concord because I was so focused on building. You can only hear what you happen to be listening to, or else the sound of building ate up the sound of the train.
“Morton’s Pond” (XV)
“Sights”: My home in ruins. Blown to the ground by last night’s storm. No more cracks where the wind made noise. No more shade. No shelter. Just a heap of boards. And the wet ground.