The Woman Who Mistook the Sun for the Moon
Figures inside the factory lift seventy pound squares of butter onto a conveyor belt. A machine of whirling blades cuts the butter into sticks. Every hour the machines are shut down so the operators can change wrappers. Same butter, different brands.
First smoke-break: A parking lot full of cars. Curled barbed wire. The black husks of old milkweed pods next to green ones. No one speaks.
Third smoke-break: Dolly points at the rising sun — a gray ball through gray haze — and says: "I didn't know the moon was full." I tell her it's the sun. "No, silly" she says, "that's the moon." And for a split second I can't tell whether it's sun or moon.
|August 2009. Copyright 2River. Please do not use or reproduce without permission.|