She skips down the alley willy-nilly, dodging potholes and puddles. Her footsteps echo between the concrete walls and rolling metal security shutters. In the circle of light cast by a streetlamp, she leaps suddenly into the air and twirls, arms joyously flailing. Her chin is raised up and she smiles to the Gods who are certainly smiling back down on her. When she tires, she comes to an abrupt stop and collapses with her palms on her knees, chest heaving. She is giggling, as if even now her stationary body must express itself in movement, even if it’s just the emission of rapid-fire panting[…]

Comments
2 responses to “Skipping Beneath the Night Sky”
Never before has ‘all’ been an infinite.
What a breathless cliff-hanger!
Yes, you are right: “all” runs the gamut, from something minimal to all there is. It’s a word open to interpretation. Abrazos!