For some reason I’d like to have a conversation with you. Filled with varying points of views, disagreements, common ground and mutual interests. For some reason I’d like to talk to you about depths of field, shimmering light and sunsets. There would be laughter, quiet moments and we will look away to catch our breath from staring each other up. More than just a few words. More than just a simple exchange. More than just a tease. For some reason I’d like to talk to you.
You’re entering a world you won’t be able to escape so easily - “World of Beauty.” There will be no redemption. Nothing will be easy. You will have a hard time. It will be a chore to distinguish between truth and fiction. You, darling, will be our next top model.
She stupefies me with her simple yet engaging glamor. These fleeting moments of grace. I’m drawn to her like a mosquito is drawn to a glimmer of light on a moonless night. I’m unable to hold myself back from looking at her. She doesn’t even know that I exist. It fills me with remorse.
You poisoned me with questions. Cursed me with your skin, smell, radiant eyes, soft hands and feminine movements. I’m struck down. Kneeling in front of you ready to be your servant. Take my hand, for I shall protect you for eternity.
An exuberant sigh escaped from the man’s part of the couchette. Nobody payed attention. The muffled speaker all of a sudden cleared out and the train conductor announced the next station. The girl put her coat on and barely uttering a goodbye to the remaining passengers left. As the train pulled into the station he tried to catch one last glimpse of the woman. It was raining and most people altered their looks when getting off the train. Umbrellas, hoods and frowns made them almost unrecognizable. She escaped his sight within the mass. The train jerked a few times and edged itself slowly out of the station.
Window panes began to utter hush sounds of the night. Muttering and murmuring in voices nobody could understand. As lonesome as they were, their words were not inviting, nor did they have a warm tone. Accompanied by a slight whisk of the wind they protruded into the room and filled its silence with theirs. They entered one by one, although they did not receive an invitation of any kind. The room was occupied by a single light tucked away in a corner. It’s flush source had a hard time illuminating but a quarter of the entire space it was commissioned to.
The room’s occupant was breathing silently. He steadily listened to the outside rumbling. The cold of the night began creeping in. Feeling a slight change in the rooms temperature he immediately tuck the sheets tighter against his body. In order to preserve the amassed warmth he pulled the duvet higher and covered the remainders of his upper torso. The trickle no longer occupied the window pane, now it was its stronger, bigger brother. The occupant sighed a little. He knew about the coming storm from the weather forecast he had seen a day before. It was a relief as he always imagined the weather man would underestimate the storm and that it would turn into a hurricane or other natural disaster waiting to happen. Knowing he would get a little paranoid about these sort of premonitions he would make himself a large cup of chai and drink it slowly right about when the storm was to begin. He had this intriguing ability to sense a storm when it was around the corner. He would hurry home to make tea, crawl into bed and slowly sip his warm beverage until the storm would settle and eventually pass.
Every now and again comes along a thing. This thing was there all along. Some tripped when walking past it, others seemed uninterested, the last group pauses for a minute, but continues on swiftly when finding what shenanigans they witnessed. All-in-all the consensus, to say the least, is befuddlement.
This thing, this entity on display, maybe if it had attributes which would make it more lucent, if it could be comprehensive enough for people around it, maybe if it wouldn’t give off a scent of another street con artist, it very well may be something enjoyable. Something pleasing. Something you’d be glad you came across.
This is the updated Corbeaux Blog.
Clear, yet familiar.
Adopting a simple geometric theme throughout its body.
Splashes of color here and there. Centered. Focused. Courteous.
Opening itself to the World, to You.
Starting today I’d like to open up the Corbeaux Blog to guest writers, photographers, videographers all kinds of graphers.
It’s a call out to the creative being in you. It’s a straight up call from Corbeaux. Pick it up. This is the right time. This is The Corbeaux Blog.
Send suggestions or even pieces of work to firstname.lastname@example.org