2007-10-07
the waiting room
As I sat in the waiting room today, I flipped through a National Geographic. There was a brilliant picture of a Portuguese Man-Of-War, vibrant and stunning, so bizarre in its flowing and bright shape. There was a photograph of a scavenger bird and all the trinkets it had consumed, filling its stomach like a kaleiodscope of items- whistles, beads, pebbles, a medley of precious objects, spread in the picture like one of those "I Spy" books from fourth grade. I spy a compass. I paged through glossy images of glacial mountains frosted by epically ivory snowcaps. The rainbow-sherbert sunset panoramas were awe-inspiring, albeit two-dimensional upon the page. An African's distant face gazes somberly back at me, the white of their eyes brilliantly contrasted by the beautiful smooth darkness of their skin.
Just looking at this magazine, of the glimpses of the vigor and intriuge of this world beyond my immediate reaches, that was therapy enough in itself.
leesah-likes at 2:37 p.m.