10-Line Tuesday

May 31, 2016

May's last sunset

It is late in a small village in Brittany, where a woman and her mother
are strolling the canal. And yet, the sky has broken all the rules, and the light
guiding them back to the house feels improbable as the airplanes
that brought them here, as if weight and gravity had forgotten themselves.
A dog scampers alongside them, blessed with an amnesia for despair and
uncertainty, unmindful of whether the day is at its close or just beginning.
His tongue flaps the air comically as he runs, and for a moment, all they see
is joy. Their footsteps slow along the path to take it in, and their breath
stays patient in their chests, and in the river's quiet mirror they watch
as the world above them spreads out in all its glory at their feet.