Description

Superb sapphire strings along narrow gashes of earth, wet and eroded.

Foam flushes the sapphires, washing in and splashing out. Blue fireworks of crystal clarity.

Crashes and crackles, to rushing gushes and racings rapids; sour apple aroma, fresh and fruity, and a nostalgic vanilla and an out there banana.

They all mix together, the flavours and the scents, with a pinch of salt, to clear the mind as the birds chirp loudly. 

The crashing sound of sapphires are drowned out by the birdsong.

And with that, a bird flies; yet, in its talons a corpse hangs. A bird’s corpse. The same bird’s corpse. Lookalike doves smothered in blood, one carrying the other.

They look down at the river and are pulled in by it.

Their wings are torn, the sky is dark and it is night.

There is only one bird to be seen.