Dunes
I went out through another cold still morning erasing my steps behind me not because I did not want to be followed but because I did not want to find my way back again. By degrees the erasures became systematic and the space I occupied smaller and smaller until I reached an area I had only heard about where the present slips beneath the past like geological plates and dunes made of forgotten things run along the fault lines.
They say that the present is a threshold and that we are figures made from memory performed over what falls away. They say that what falls away has a shape so consistent that even collected in dunes there are no objects, only irregular grounds against which other figures are said to emerge. But no-one ever comes here.
When I look at the dunes I do not know what I am seeing.
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Author's Note
A friend wrote me something involving the notion of a cherubic wanderer, someone who longs for rebirth into an eternal now, which would be a space in which eternal return was operative. I quite liked both the correspondence and idea. Then it turned in this direction. Enjoy.
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Stephen, I've just come to this and it resonates with a lot of things I've been living and experiencing lately. A nice little existential piece, compact and beautifully written. I especially like this:
"...and the space I occupied smaller and smaller until I reached an area I had only heard about where the present slips beneath past like geological plates and dunes made of forgotten things run along the fault lines."
I am not as convinced by the last paragraph. The last line strikes me as too much, perhaps. For me, this could have ended with the second paragraph, or even the first sentence of the last one. I felt like you said too much when you offered the last line, like it's more explanation than I want/need. Just a thought...
Either way, this is a cool compact thing, and I dig it. *
thanks for the read & comment, m. i'm pleased you like the writing in particular. and maybe you're right about the last line. i took it out & will sit with it like this. i can always put it back in. i know why i included it...so now it's a matter of figuring out whether the same recursive effects happens without it.
thanks for the idea.
"By degrees the erasures became systematic and the space I occupied smaller and smaller until I reached an area I had only heard about where the present slips beneath past like geological plates and dunes made of forgotten things run along the fault lines." I know a man who's living this life, alas. Fine writing, Stephen.*
Nice. *
Stunning mix of the abstract with the concrete. As Michelle above, I'd lose the last line. Try separating out "But no one ever comes here" and dropping that at the bottom where the existing final line is.
See what you think. Regardless. I'm a fan.
This is quite beautiful.
thanks very much for the reads & comments. i'm pleased that the writing works for you. and i think michelle was right about the line that i took out.
i love it and i would strike the last sentence. Like it VERY much. I'm in agreement w/ Sally.
fav
In keeping with the technical discussion above, what about the word "the"? I'm thinking in par 1: "the present", "the fault lines", but only "past".
These are tenuous calls. You could spend a year doing word switches with this, but really the weighting of the words comes down to the shortness of the piece. The translators of Anna Karenina would never have faced this problem (which nonetheless is a nice one).
I somewhat agree with the other comments about the last line but at the same time, I really like the last line - it works for me. I also very much enjoyed reading this. Marvellous.
Score.
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thanks for the reads and comments. i appreciate them all. i pleased that the piece works for you.
eamon-->thanks for catching the the--i missed that.
Outstanding.
I starred it, also.
Prose perfection.
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thanks very much for the reads and lovely comments.
bill-->coming from you that is a very high compliment indeed.
LOVE, LOVE this!!! *****
nice, indeed.