Beauty
From the window in my office, I could see a sliver of the sea.
At 4pm, it glistens, a beacon for those who care to look. The sun is directly above it and plays on its surface, and the sun’s clouds appear to be yellow graduating to orange, interspersed with white wisps and marred by the dot of a high-flying bird. I imagine the sky plunging to dark blue, at once, as soon as the sun touches the sea.
There is one space in my eye’s periphery where I refuse to look. It is an abandoned construction, the skeleton of a building, an eye sore, and despite my reluctance to look, I am quite familiar with it. It could have been beautiful, but it is not. Its remains stand tall – the symbol of human-nature-gone-bad. It told of the story of people refusing to agree, of a rift dividing partners, the drying up of money, and the final blow, hurling of lawsuit bayonets. I am sure it caused some pain to someone somewhere, maybe until now.
And it is spoiling the view of everyone who cared to look at it. Read More →