What is truth? Is there such a thing?
The senorita opens her eyes to the early morning sun, which speckles through tiny holes in the siding. She stretches, rubs her eyes, and walks outside onto the beach where the white waves rumble against the sand. Droplets of dew still glisten off the cool grass. She approaches a yellow wildflower, holding it in front of her nose. She smiles, plucks it from the ground and gently places it into her hair. She closes her eyes, opens her hands at her sides and enjoys the light breeze on her palms.
Is there truth in it?
I have no idea.
There's truth in this - I shall now be beerd.
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1 comment:
I'm starting to think there is no such thing as truth. But I definitely think there's beauty, which you've illustrated yet again. Cheers!
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