Pillars of Salt Spring 2014

Möbius There is a ferocity with which the wind whips across your face and hurtles you through the air.

Gold feathers cut your cheek and the wax is dripping down your arms, down your back, tracing your veins as your blood drums out a war beat.

You’re flailing and falling and all you can see is the sun’s dying flares fragmented across the ocean, shimmering with the steady push and pull of the tide.

There are three doors, isn’t that how it always starts?

One leads to hell, one leads to paradise, and one takes you back to the beginning: an extra life, a second chance.

Three doors, three possibilities.

Now you get to choose.

You’re standing on the window’s ledge and when you look down at the space between you and the water, for the first time, it looks like freedom instead of a cage.

Your father is speaking about flying too high; you don’t believe such a thing exists.

Outstretching your arms, the feathers glimmer in the sun, and you fall.

You’re in a room with three doors and your father’s voice calls to you from each one.

Three doors.

You open one.

You go back to the start.

Pillars of Salt 23