He must be hallucinating. The chill had seeped through his clothing, as though the fabric was blotting paper, soaking up liquid cold.
The abandon chair had seemed like a refuge, when he first noticed it across the field. Surely, there would be habitation, human company and help nearby, or how would the chair have come to be there?
He struggled through deep drifts, squinting into the sun as he tried to make out signs of a settlement or buildings. No such luck. The chair was plumb in the middle of nowhere. But as he grew closer, he saw a vague outine of a body - surely a judge in robes and wig? The tapestry figure became more solid until his feverish mind saw it in 3D Technicolor, and he heard it speak! "How do you plead, guilty or not guilty?"
A very late ticket for the 14th February Poetry Bus, with apologies to Dana Bug for nearly missing the bus.
And if you still can't see my 'Judge' - here he is, in silhouette for you!
this would be a great story round starter.
ReplyDeleteKristin-
ReplyDeleteIf you can see a story that would carry on, why not write it?! You could always link back in case anyone else wanted to have a go too...Thing is, can you see the Judge that I saw?! He’s very plain to me...
Not sure if this is a good thing Jinksy, but I can see him too, even before the second image! Don't forget and ride the bus this week, yours truly is driving!!!
ReplyDeleteThis is a chilling post. It would be a believable, accurate description of the mental state of a person hallucinating in a story, as someone else mentioned. Your picture is actually fascinating - in a dark way of course; perfect match for the piece.
ReplyDelete