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San Francisco, CA


A monthly art collective featuring work inspired by a one sentence statement.

March 2014



His eyes blinked open, or he blinked his eyes open. Whatever, they opened. He hadn’t expected to blink like that but then again he hadn’t thought much about how it would happen only that he believed it would. He figured at some point along the way he was probably the only one. He could almost laugh about that now.

He swung his legs around, put his feet on the floor and sat there in the dark until his eyes adjusted to the faint light coming in from around the door. He looked down at his feet and realized that he had no idea where his shoes had gone; or who might have them. The same thought crossed his mind about his clothes. He waited another minute, contemplating the shoes and clothes issue, and with his pupils now fully open thought to himself, I ought to be cold but I am surprisingly comfortable considering the fact that I’m sitting naked on a stone bench in God knows where.

He stood up. That felt good, he thought. He was elated. How interesting to feel that way just standing. He looked again at his feet and then at his hands and arms. He felt his chest and his sides, bent down and rubbed his legs, ran his hands over his head. Nothing broken, all parts in working order, ribs intact, joints loose, even his hair in fine shape, considering.

Well, better get to it, he thought. He reached back and picked up the thin blanket that had been covering him when he was flat on the bench. He swung it around and wrapped himself in it. He thought, I cannot wait to see the look on her face when she sees me for the first time. He didn’t have to imagine that look though; he could see it in his mind’s eye. That was going to be another interesting part of all this. He had had his doubts, just like anyone else would have, but he now knew that doubt would no longer apply to him. He hoped it would no longer apply to her, but that was her choice. It would be the same choice all of them would have to consider from now on. I did my part, he thought.

He turned around to adjust the blanket and when he turned back there was no door, just an opening to the day. Light streamed in. Nice morning. He laughed and thought, They will all be nice from now on. She wasn’t there now but he knew she would be when he got back. At this point he needed to take a long walk, fill his lungs with some fresh air, find some shoes and clothes and a mirror. In the state he was in he didn’t worry about somebody recognizing him. Not right away. That would come later he hoped. He stepped through the frame and into the sunshine. He stretched. Saw no one around. Smiled. He walked straight out and after a few hundred yards he smelled fresh baked bread coming from somewhere beyond the tree line. What time was it really? He began to wonder just how early it might be. Too early for a glass of wine?