Walk on Water
He'd carefully woven the net of lies and deceit, strengthened it strand by strand, lie by lie, careless glance to careless word, and now it supports his entire existence without effort. Nothing, no one, could match the fury with which he labored to create his world of perfection. Perfection because paint drowns the cracks in the ceiling, a gaudy cloth hides the crumbling roof, and Hope sits in every corner besides Fear.--
The summer breeze breathed through the palm fronds and the sun stroked the earth and they knew it was lost. The last soul was gone. Perspicacity and austerity were gone, departed, mere memories, mere shadows of memories. Only a mild, happy, drowned feeling remains as the sands shift beneath the weight of a hundred, a hundred and one tears.
