Bare feet on bare stone, straining for the silence of birds. The sun sets, the thunder rumbles and the plains roll on and on. CLICK ON RECORDING TO LISTEN
Suspended as though held by hands, I am silent as a fish, hiding my cumbersome legs. Lie back, lie back, they say, as the girls dance a shocking blue.
Valparaiso is an expletive of colour: naranja, azul, amarillo, verde, el color de los muscelos tires. All the flags hang their heads as afternoon shadows grow. Text on the button
A drama unfolds in this metropolis of bubbles — two lost on the high seas, their magic carpet no match for the vortex raging past the plug and down the pipes and under the asphalt, out into the harbour and through the narrows toward Ireland and beyond. Saved by a girl with a watchful…