June 09, 2006

We gathered in the park at the end of the rainbow on a crisp, cloudy afternoon to fall from the sky. The playground equipment lay dormant and inviting, so we climbed up gilded ladders and took turns flinging ourselves towards the ground. Dust. Scrapes. Arms and smiles thrust upwards violently. The evening was full of brief, elegant moments, followed by sudden impacts and the sound of air rushing out of our lungs.

By the end of the evening, our limbs grew tired and ravished by velocity, but we remembered how to fly.

More:

• Suzanne’s pictures
• Opal’s pictures
• Joy’s pictures
• Martin’s pictures (and entry)
• My pictures