Friday, July 27, 2007

On rainy days, he used to enjoy lying amongst the fields, drinking in the crisp autumn air. From this perspective, the grass seemed to envelop and swallow him into the earth. He would lie there, contemplative, and the fathoms of blue-grey sky would stare back at him. The lone diver, he fancied himself, staring up at the void from the bottom of the sea. It was a lonely and beautiful place.

And so it happens that I sometimes get these peculiar impulses. My mind washes clear and everything seems so natural, so logical. Remorse vanishes, that ugly, cumbersome thing. And I am then driven to draw, or colour.

This time, a paragraph of prose floated into existence. It also seems that I am to ditch school for today, and focus on revising statistics.

What a lucky coincidence, revision is done, now for the prose.