we walked quite a long way down the beach on saturday. there was something in the distance that we wanted to get a closer look at. i'd never been there before, at least not since i was a child and had no idea what it could be. the tide was completely in when we arrived and it had only just revealed a thin patch of damp brown sand. let's walk on the beach now that we're here. i'd brought two pairs of shoes but they both had holes in so i tried to stay out of the deep puddles that lay in the sea-scarred sand. both pairs got wet in the end but later on the train i dried them by the scorching heaters that were on in spite of the sickly orange sun that baked the glass. they were still wet when i got home. my lips tasted so salty, not like the kind you put on food but the kind that cakes and clogs and is apparently good for your skin. i always say i'd like to live by the sea but i think i like convenience too much, i'd probably like to think about living by the sea whilst drinking in bars and buying more shoes. we walked past the rollerocasters and i felt sick to my stomach to see the way people seemed to hang out suspended upside down. since then i keep having dreams about them falling, but it's silent, slow-motion. the lack of screams is maybe the creepiest thing. we walked past the illuminations in the shape of enormous tiffany lamps. we walked past nearly everything and could still see it in the distance, this enormous spinning, dazzling thing. up close you could see what it was immediately and if you couldn't the plaque was there to tell you. in the daytime it span in the wind and glinted from the sun, but at night time it came alive under the twinkling lights and i could imagine sitting outside in the breeze watching it twirl. but we had to leave before then. we had to catch our train.
the world's largest mirrorball - bad fiction
22 May 2007 @ 11:48 am
the world's largest mirrorball