The Fading Light Illuminates


Day 30: Behold the village of glass.

Each pane has its own story. Some seem happier than others. The cracked ones at the bottom, have they had a hard life, or were they simply the adventurous ones, traveling out of the village at night, after the light had moved on? Those vines/weeds/trees, are they curious neighbors? Friends? Voyeurs? Art?

We do not know, but we can speculate, by row, by column, by tic-tac-toe,  throwing darts or taking a dream pill that will show us the way without words.

This last thought is tempting. To remove the words and let the picture speak for itself.

But that dark shape, that thing in the village, at the heart, at the center, at the belly of the village… it will not rest. You have seen it, have you not? And now it sees you.

Sunset Through the Broken Windows Photo credit: Alex Markovich

Photograph courtesy of  Alex Markovich, who took this fabulous photograph. He’s a talented photographer living in Russia, and has generously offered his photos for free.


4 thoughts on “The Fading Light Illuminates

  1. This picture and your words are impressive. “… but we can speculate”. That is something we do, something that keeps us human. Wanting the answers and filling in the blanks if none are given. Very poetic reflection (pun intended).

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Love your pun! And yes, I agree that speculating, wondering, being curious about things is a wonderfully human characteristic. I remember taking long walks late in the evening, being mesmerized by the open curtain, the lit room, thinking about the families who lived there. I never stared, though – that seemed like prying. A glimpse, though, that was lovely.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. What a lovely idea! I like the way you looked at the photo. I hadn’t even really noticed the cracks at the bottom panes until I read your words. Just beautiful. Thanks for sharing.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you! I find photographs of unfamiliar places to be terrific writing prompts. Oddly enough, I tend to notice the cracks – I sometimes worry that I will be hit by a truck because I am so transfixed by something small and slightly off kilter instead of paying attention to where I am ;o)


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