Original Photograph from Flickr
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The breakfast terrace
The brazen naked woman with the EAGLE mask steps onto the roof terrace, it is a place that once held intimate parties, perhaps a soirée on a summer's evening, perhaps a spontaneous breakfast that had been carefully planned by the quiet, sometimes strange redhead. The AstroTurf tickled under bare feet, the plastic chairs created patterns in bare skin.
The brazen naked woman with the EAGLE mask is accustomed to being alone. Being alone is a thing to cherish, a time to order the mind and tidy away the cluttered thoughts for just like a comfortable house the mind needs maintenance. Dirty things need cleaning, clutter needs sorting, rubbish needs discarding and treasures need restoring. And the time to clean the mind is when alone.
The brazen naked woman with the EAGLE mask has a mind as clear as the rooms she has been strolling in the House of Masks, clean spaces ready for guests to glitter through before an army of the unseen passes through restoring the order.
The brazen naked woman with the EAGLE mask thinks now is the time to make a friend, this place is too sterile to struggle through alone. Perhaps the figure in the garden below.
The brazen naked woman with the EAGLE mask stares down into the garden wondering how to make a friend without talking, it is like gagging a foreign language teacher at the beginning of the lesson: what you need is a lesson plan, and a text book to point at. It is like the first foreign language lesson in which the teacher refuses to give instructions in English.
The tannoy announces: THE LION AND THE EAGLE IS COMMENCING NOW.
The brazen naked woman with the EAGLE mask wonders if this is the text book, if these stories are the coda to understand and succeed in this sterile place
From the Lion and the Eagle
Soar, EAGLE, soar, see us, hear us, know...
