Wednesday, August 31, 2016

Hawk Season Notebook #252



Hawk Season Notebook #252

Short Film. Holding a relationship up to a mirror: molten-red background and overhead light, half a year's unopened mortgage bills on an entryway table, window frame wood burning in a cracked-brick fireplace. The man is a middle-aged corn farmer. He is an ice cube dropped into a glass of bargain bourbon. The woman is leafy, like a June poplar, with exaggerated gestures. They board a Ferris wheel, sit beside each other... hold hands. The small town below them resembles shards of a broken vase... vanilla-white roofs... slash-crimson roofs. The woman takes a mirror from a small purse, holds it up. It is night. The silver stars behind and over them are, one by one, dimming-out. 

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