snipets

Some of them are quite depressing. The first one is a story in India's past I heard on the tv today.




I small child, a young prince, clinging to his father's clothes. He is torn away from his father. Gruesome sounds are heard over his wailing sobs. The child is given mass amounts of opium. Dreams swirl in his head. Slowly, the dreams become more chaotic, more bright in color.... until there is nothing more.


I woman lounges on the sand. Curling her toes deep into the sand's warmth. Her head tips back and her eyes close. The shadow of a smile appears on the corners of her mouth.


A pale faced girl dances in the snow, her movements not of this culture. She sings a haunting melody under her breath. It warbles with an odd clarity. The viewer suddenly has a memory triggered by the sight of the spinning girl. Of a cold desert at night. A bright fire and drums. Turbans and beards and warbling voices. The girl lifts her arms and tilts back her head to the moon and spins, her coat flaring out behind her. The viewer whispers.
"India"


The boy is silent and the girl's heart pounds. She knows he understands, but why does he understand? Is he just being nice? Finally, he whispers, "If I kissed you, would you feel anything?"
"yes."



A burly dog sits placidly in the snow and cold. A boy stands beside it. He stares out into a thick forest. His eyes strain, but he cannot see what he seeks. He doesn't even know what he seeks, just that it is glorious and beautiful.


The girl puts her back to him. "I have not let myself love anyone. But you have found your way into my heart."
"then trust me with its care and we both will be happy for eternities."


A mother stares down at the lifeless body in her arms. A fifth child in the deep earth. Her spirit weakens once more and her knees buckle. She cannot wonder why. She lowers the child into the grave much smaller than most. When the deep earth accepts her offering she seals the grave with her tears, bending over the soft mound and digging thin fingers into the dirt.


A woman sits in the window alcove. "Come see!" The husband comes over quietly to bend down to his wife's level. "What beauty do you see?" She directs his line of sight and reveals the glow of the moon upon a tree covered with snow. "Do you see the way the moon's light is slightly blue in color and makes the unmarked barks seem black as shadows? Do you see the way it glows like a moon all on its own?" he sees it and his heart leaps. "What glory you find!" He kisses her fingers and sits with her in the little alcove.


A lady sings. So soulful and sorrowful all who hear her cry in despair. Her vowels croon and her consonants softly chafe. She sings. She sounds so delicate, sounds as if at the end of the song, she will splinter into a million little pieces. The saxophone breaks into her song and begins a solo. She steps back into shadows and nothing is seen of her again as the saxophone finishes the song with its smooth tones.

Little wet tears on a baby's shoulder.