Obeisance and Censure
- Trapped. Nowhere to run. Nothing to do. That would be the end. No rebellion. No frontier. All taken stock and locked behind the taxonomic imperative of bureaucracy. But there was still something to be gained from this run along the spine, spliced between two worlds.
“Surf doesn’t quite hold to the theory of sublime,” offered Jethro, “but it has it’s merits here. Though you’ll never overcome anything but your own fears.”
“Crack wise all you will, you do naught but sit and philosophize from shore,” countered Ben waxing his own board.
“Someone’s got to. Not like out there is all that conducive to pen and paper.”
“You might want to try surfing before you reminisce all lyrical about it,” said Kelianna in passing, her own focus the water before her.
Jethro smiled and said, “I can respect that but where you find solace wrapped in the embrace of the curl, I find my on the page. Here I get to explore who I am.”
Ben huffed, stood and kicked sand as he set off for the waterline. He called behind him, “Trying something new will do you one better!”
Today’s art is courtesy of Russell Michelich from Illinois, USA.