The theatre has dimmed, leaving a moving lattice of luminescence, reaching from hidden darkness to touch a snowy screen with carbon images — a 40s film in black and white.
Here and there, a cigarette reveals a glowing tip, the source of languid trails of opalescent smoke, drifting ribbon-like, to rise and fade.
These evanescent clouds are like the phrases penned to touch imagination — and slip like rivulets of spring, between your fingers — if you try to grasp for meaning.
Robert Dickson Family physician Hamilton, Ont.