A rectangular window opens in a flat black wall, large enough for the head of a spotted giraffe, if the giraffe were kneeling, that is, and if it were contemplating the yellow sky that partitions the upper half of the window from what is below. Below, an oblique triangle of green retreats at vernal low tide into the lower left-hand corner before the onslaught of a fiery orange desert. Only a silhouetted cone, at the right-hand edge, rises out of the desert, above the horizon and pierces the dominant sky. A chalk-white spire surrounded by pastel blue and mustard colored towers crowns the cone's peak.
If you look closely at the uppermost border, you will see that a confluence of moisture has formed and given birth to a teardrop near the far right side of the frame. The tear stretches downward, its sphere enlarging as its root diminishes to a mere point. It breaks away and a breeze carries it across the yellow sky.
Look! On the other side of the frame, another tear falls and is caught up in the same current. The two converge, wrap themselves about each other and form a sphere. But they do not dissolve within the sphere. The white of one contrasting with the black of the other preserves their fluid identities. And, if you look closely, you'll see that an eye has appeared in each. The one following the other.
The sphere, rotating, floats out of the window towards the crest of the cone. They navigate the desert, rise to the summit of the cone, float over the spire and weave among the pastel-coloured towers. A window in one of the towers opens. They enter. Inside, paisley embroidered pillows lay upon a bed covered with a rose-coloured spread.
The window shuts behind them and they feel themselves separating. Their eyes widen and strain to bond with their stares. Mouths form and search each other. They join, cling and struggle to stay together. Then, like two petals, they peel apart and fall onto the mattress.
There is a table and chair next to the bed. Do you see the goat cheese and pomegranate on the table? Do you see the knife?
Mark Russo's stories have appeared in Flash Fiction Magazine, New Reader Magazine, 34th Parallel Magazine, Literally Stories, Potato Soup Journal, Spillwords Press, Knot Magazine, MacQueen's Quinterly, South Florida Poetry Journal (SoFloPoJo), Grey Sparrow Journal and Squawk Back. He graduated undergraduate School at the University of Cincinnati; worked as an engineer, then managed a machining facility in Ohio; studied Law at the University of Maine School of Law; and, for the past 20 years, practiced Immigration Law. He currently resides in Goose Rocks Beach, Kennebunkport, Maine.
The Ekphrastic Review
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