Tension builds, tighter and tighter, like an emotional pressure cooker at risk of catastrophic release. Then, suddenly (or slowly) without warning, the pressure is gone. No explosive concussion, no sparks, no flames. Not even vapor. It’s as if I’m watching a silent slow-motion video of a rubber band, stretched five times beyond its safety point, snap. Instead of a blur of violent motion, I see a thick wet noodle slow-dance until it collapses onto the floor, every shred of energy spent.
All the pent-up emotion wasted on an anti-climax of epic proportions. The lust, rage, love, loathing, and fear, just gone. In its place is an emptiness like no other, an emptiness that swallows not just a lifetime, but centuries of lifetimes, whole civilizations. Babies not yet born two hundred years hence are swallowed up in the emptiness. The history of a thousand years is consumed, a mere kernel of corn to a ravenous bird that decimates a million acres of grain in the blink of a cat’s eye.
Just using this Saturday morning to exercise my fingers and my imagination, if that’s what it is.