Prompter by Stephen Hastings-King

There is a here and I am in it, stumbling over gullies and gashes past vertical forms made from broken grasses and corkscrews of newly fallen snow spinning in the pressurized hiss of the wind. Here is a not remembering how the journey started over the decay of each footstep into a network of tiny crackling sounds. There, ahead, in the blur, the town periodically folds into itself as if it had been painted on a scrim.

When I reach the fold I walk through to backstage where the sets that enable time are arranged in thick sequences. Over the marsh are rows of spotlights; below center is a small open space. A human form looks back at me, The Prompter who remembers what is forgotten, his head giant with alarm.

Then there is a here and I am amongst the gullies and grasses and corkscrews of newly fallen snow and see no spotlights or prompter. When I walk networks of tiny cracking sounds radiate from beneath my feet and dissolve into the suspendedness of a Christmas morning town.

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7 Comments

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7 responses to “Prompter by Stephen Hastings-King

  1. John Riley

    “When I walk networks of tiny cracking sounds radiate from beneath my feet” is a great image.

  2. Made me think of a movie set or a dream…

  3. Kim Hutchinson

    Lovely and dreamy.

  4. Love this, especially “There is a here and I am in” — glorious declaration. Peace…

  5. Pingback: Week #33 – Spontaneous combustion | 52|250 A Year of Flash

  6. stephen

    thanks so much for the reads and lovely comments.
    i think some of this piece came out of a dream, but not all of it did. i’m pleased that it has that kind of space to it, particularly given the wittgenstein riff (there is a here…) that anchors it, which could i think have short circuited that sense.

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