This time, I missed the Weekend Writing Prompt due to birthday commitments, Im going to try and do this in one take before my shower, before my dog walk and before my porridge; BUT during my cup of tea.
The working week has not yet started and so tenuously we are still within the realms of the weekend… maybe… I’ll keep telling myself that…
I had to look this one up, I thought of subliminal, but thats all.
Vatnajökull’s nose was no longer in front, seeing less, she had retreated several kilometres in the passing decades and in her liminal state had revealed many secrets; frozen animal cadavers, twisted trees.
Today’s revelation; rather more macabre, as 6 tiny translucent hands protruded from the ice, the crystalline water drip, drop, dripping metronomically into the cerulian pool below.
I dreamt of glaciers so this cautionary tale came to mind. I hope i’ve taken the word to mean what I think it does, i’m talking of the glacial state between being a chunk of ice and no longer that, lost forever.
Dear Shrawley,
This is a very mysterious one. You had me at 6 tiny translucent hands. What now?
Shalom,
Rochelle
Mine is here: https://rochellewisoff.com/2019/11/09/weekend-writing-prompt-liminal/
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The melting of the glaciers presents us with visions of the past, I have no idea how the 6 little hands, presumably 3 children, got to be frozen in the ice, but know how they are to be reintroduced back to the world, with global climate catastrophe on the horizon.
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Frighteningly true.
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