November 4, 2010

One person’s spiral is another’s snail, and the wind blows through in so many different flavors. They thought they walked on fire, but on that day, it could have very well been heated rocks, or sun-warmed sand, or their own hearts underfoot.

Be careful what you say aloud, she said. Everyone interprets things differently.

They quieted their conversation then, listening, instead, to the rustle of leaves in the trees, or perhaps, of skirts somewhere off to the side.

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