I hung the clothes in the room to dry under the word sun. Water dripped on the words newspapers and concrete forming a lake. I imagined the word goldfish swimming in front of my wooden table. I poured coffee into the cup. But I couldn’t read under the word light.
A herd of war elephants passed by the window. A gaunt old man wielding a cross exorcised temptation to hurry to his side. If you said seaside instead of desert yellow butterflies sprang from the yawning drawers of his hands.
I thought of my spiritual life with such intensity that the icon facing me shed a tear.