Post by L Roebuck on Nov 13, 2008 7:40:20 GMT -5
Deep, dark secrets
By Michael Jamison - Missoulian
Beneath: a bed of soft sand pressing damp and firm against shoulder blades.
Above: a glittering sky, starry pinpoints against unlimited black, deep as time. All around: the song of the current, a quiet lullaby of water laughing, tumbling, spilling over stone.
Perfectly still. Deceptively peaceful.
So when the star cut loose from the sky, shooting through space, I barely had time to blink before it smacked me in the forehead.
“Wet,” I thought with surprise.
We had guessed it might be salts, a shining precipitate clinging to the cave ceiling. Or perhaps tiny glints of gleaming mica.
Full Article
By Michael Jamison - Missoulian
Beneath: a bed of soft sand pressing damp and firm against shoulder blades.
Above: a glittering sky, starry pinpoints against unlimited black, deep as time. All around: the song of the current, a quiet lullaby of water laughing, tumbling, spilling over stone.
Perfectly still. Deceptively peaceful.
So when the star cut loose from the sky, shooting through space, I barely had time to blink before it smacked me in the forehead.
“Wet,” I thought with surprise.
We had guessed it might be salts, a shining precipitate clinging to the cave ceiling. Or perhaps tiny glints of gleaming mica.
Full Article