Silver Marbles and Typhoons

The laughter of children playing in the puddles outside intrudes my afternoon silence like silver marbles bouncing merrily across the floor.  Staccato honks and beeps from the roadway punch through the residual steam of an unexpected midnight rain; the weeping memory of a faraway Indian typhoon.  The light’s reflection on the tile floor opens the doorway back into my self.

A River of Stones entry.

Copyright Jean Mishra 2012


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