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Show 206 TALMA LEVY IS FALLING I am in the muddy pit, looking up, she is standing at the edge, reaching out for the bucket, and then she is falling. For a moment she seems to hang motionless above me, fixed against the hard blue sky, jet trails crossing behind her. I can see her face and it does not show fear, her dark eyes do not accuse me. I turn my head. I step back. She lands at my feet with little noise, hits the soft earth with a dull slap that sends mud flying, covers me. I am standing over her. She is broken, I am covered with mud. |