Calligraphy exhibition Thay

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Dust in the corner

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  The Silhouette became an animated grey shadow from out of nothing as if a projector had turned on and was animating a form made of dust. The face looked startled, then focused on Sophie as it spoke "I don't have much time" Sophie sprang backwards out of her chair and hit the floor running on all fours, her arms knitting the floor behind her like a crab until she bumped into a row of folding metal chairs. The lit form of particles spoke again, this time more resolute in its speech and less pixelated. It turned and looked directly at Sophie now huddled in a corner behind a heap of chairs and continued "I have managed to create enough of a surge to get this message out, my packet will be lost completely if I use full emulation so this is a low format transmission."  Sophie steadied herself by holding the leg and seat of the metal chair as she managed her own leg out from under herself, then plopped back down as the apparition continued. "You have a chance to...
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I, You I know you can see me. You may not have a very clear picture of me in your mind, But I know I exist as a glimpse of a shadow at least. I know this because that’s what a sentence is by nature and so far, I have existed to you in the form of three of them. I’m not a complete picture to you as yet, but that’s ok. I don’t think any of us ever are, not even to ourselves. For now, I am words on this screen. Unimpressive, perhaps, but I promise that by the time you reach its conclusion, You will know that you cannot possibly exist without me and I, You. I’m sorry she hurt you. You didn’t expect that did you? You didn’t expect me to know that you were in pain. I’m sorry you were made to feel that you were never enough, that you were too short, too stupid,  or Unworthy. I’m sorry, you felt that you did not belong. I’m sorry that I was never There for you while you were going through these things. I wanted...
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First Parallel Prompt

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The sound of the Charney boys playing basketball on the road seeped into the cracked window of Sophie Sautereau’s bedroom. What began as a faint echo of a plastic ball against pavement slowly progressed into a fragmented dance of light, shadow, and sound arguing over a moment across her windowsill. The sound itself was bent somehow as if it were coming from the front of the house, and all Sophie could think was,  Thank God their mother had listened to her plea to get the boys to move that damn hoop from under her bedroom window and over onto George Leven,  which was on the other side of Sophie’s house and where a small patch of woods would muffle the sound a bit. She thought further and imagined that if she could get up and close the window, she wouldn’t be able to hear them at all. That very thought hung in her mind like the distant echo of young boys playing on the next street over and like a ball bouncing violently on the road, it became faint refraction of the da...
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