This is my final day of The Buddha Rocks Project.
I want to thank Evelyn at Filling a Hole for introducing it and inviting me to join in. It has been a marvelous challenge.
Thanks also to Eric for letting me use his fantastic and very inspirational photographs to get my mind running off on a week of tangents. I hope I did them justice.
The rules are basic. 7 days of posts inspired by 7 pictures taken by Eric.
To see his blog, head over to: Bubba’s Place.
This is day 7.
We flee our home on a sea of debt.
Dad, captain at the helm of the silver Prius, frowns into the rear view mirror and informs us to Hold on.
Mom is in the front, next him. She beats her trembling lip by offering Patrick, Mary and I sodas and crisps. The younger kids think we’re going on a grand adventure, so they gleefully take the rare loot. Even though the volume controls of their voices are stuck at 9 again, for the first time ever neither Mom nor Dad yell at them to quiet down.
Being the eldest daughter, I am wiser to our circumstances. I fear for the survival of our little skiff and its inhabitants. The tides of misfortune around us will continue to rise. The swell of confusion and fear and anxiety they generate throughout the land could tip and drown us in a moment.
Yes, the rains are here to stay a while; they are here to cleanse. And the ark my parents built was revealed to be nothing more than a sideshow that the Masters of Illusion used to sell as tickets to their main event.
I watch as drops fall from the sky. I watch them smash, unharmed, onto the car’s window, where they slide gracefully into one another to form larger drops, then pools.
The Masters alone will survive largely unscathed, unless we determine to become raindrops.