The Flautist by Remedios Varo, 1948
A volcano erupts, fire and lava spew everywhere, the stone slabs near the top of the lighthouse blasted off by the force, crash to the ground.
The flutist protects herself, leans herself against a charred skeleton, all that remains of an ancient bald cypress.
On her golden flute she plays a mesmerizing rapture of notes, light but with enough heft to hoist the stones back into place on the tower—music that has the power to turn back time, reverse unimaginable damage.
Karen George is author of three poetry collections from Dos Madres Press: Swim Your Way Back (2014), A Map and One Year (2018), and Where Wind Tastes Like Pears (2021). She won Slippery Elm’s 2022 Poetry Contest, and her short story collection, How We Fracture, which won the Rosemary Daniell Fiction Prize, is forthcoming from Minerva Rising Press in Spring 2023. After 25 years as a computer programmer/analyst, she retired to write full-time. She enjoys photography and visiting museums, cemeteries, historic towns, gardens, and bodies of water. Her website is: https://karenlgeorge.blogspot.com/.
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