Runing Water- end of Act 2 and start of Act 3.

End of Act 2
Falling, falling, crawling toward infinity the forest comes to an end. We find ourselves upon a pebble beach with black and blue and crimson stones. It is no white sand tropical relaxing beach, it is one steeped in the isolation and alienation of the souls of heroes and heroines. My wife took a photograph of it, before I knew her. The raft is still there, by the sole white rock.

Act 3
On
the raft, out at sea, salt in the lungs, the sun shines down on me. I
think of the birds above in the blue sky who migrate riding sea winds
who keep on flying. I think of the fish beneath in the bright,
sometimes dark, blue sea who are circumspect to current and must go
with tide who keep on swimming. I think of myself who is fatalistically driven by the action of self & others as I keep on floating.


Conclusion will hopefully be this weekend.