I remember at the top of the path from the footbridge over the multi-colored river in the basement of the house there was a collection of seashells arranged in transparent polyurethane cubes stacked with an eccentric sense of geometry into a 3-dimensional map of an imaginary sea. Aquarium paraphernalia has been placed around the map to enable a functioning ecosystem.
I remember the cavernous sense of empty gymnasium and the sense that I had interrupted something invisible and secret.
I remember being a commando wielding a plastic gun on the roof of the high school until the police came with weapons drawn. I yelled “It’s plastic” again and again, still not understanding the situation.
I remember becoming other people.
The Past by Stephen Hastings-King
Filed under Stephen Hastings-King
One response to “The Past by Stephen Hastings-King”
Pingback: Week #50 – Home sweet home | 52|250 A Year of Flash