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Showing posts from November, 2019

The Chasm

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I looked over the edge and time stood still. The salt water froze over, my blood coagulated in my veins, and a hazy veil drew over the world. The clock stopped between two ticks. Below me lay nothing, a gaping chasm of emptiness, an inscrutinable ravine of darkness, in which no features could be made out. I balanced on the knife-edge high above it, in perfect equilibrium, at the exact halfway point between the See and the Saw. We had drifted here as refugees, more or less. Cast adrift at sea on a frail and unreliable vessel, chasing an elusive goal. There was three of us on this day. There was Chief Switchfoot, he of the enviable and admirable ambipodious ability to surf goofy footed or natural footed. There was also The Grinner, currently doing service as Chief Switchfoot’s Son-Outlaw, i.e. his daughter’s boyfriend. Whenever he gets on a wave there’s a massive grin that cracks open his face from ear to ear, sheer joy at being able to ride a wave beaming off him. And of course