he will toss you like a ball into a large country
flashe paint, ink, acrylic gouache on linen
The engine stopped and here they were, stalled above this red ocean. His guess was that the distributor cap was loose again. But he had no time for this delay and no patience for this calm float. His load of Marys were already winding up, their cackles growing more wild as they yelped with phosphorus breath expelling words of justice as they spun the tiny village faster and faster with tips of tongues until all hell threatened to cut loose. He had to fix the engine so that he could toss the lot like a ball into the next large country they floated over. It all depended on him.
Images and content are Copyright protected 2020 by Margaret Ann Withers.