Friday, April 28, 2017


It was a long walk back from the remains of St. Cecelia’s church. Everything looked, felt, overly saturated; the leaves in the trees were greener, the abandoned factory a rustier red...the rainbow of oil droplets more vibrant.

I wasn’t sure how I got to Rainbow River, but I didn’t really mind. The sludge of colors, the mix of greens and blues and purples, nicely complemented the post-storm sky. As I walked farther down the river, I noticed something in the water. Getting closer, I saw it was a body of a woman, her form encircled by a corona of deep red.

Surprisingly, I didn’t react. I just stood there, watching her bob up and down in the water with the slight current. Her mortality - our mortality - became very apparent in that instant. The fleeting nature of life, its gifts and its cruelty, and its inevitable end.

All we have to cushion this uncomfortable truth is the illusion of control.

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