By Jim Smith
21 Jan 2010
A beautiful girl. A glorious day. A cliff over a rushing river covered with man-made boulders. Bright yellow and red paints. Dripped. Smeared. Caught in the light. Smile. A changing canvas. Constant. But Not. Now it's different. Capture it before it's gone. The movement of the paint on her body is like the water rushing by below. It will never be the same again. Happiness. Rivers of rivulets of red, now orange, now pink, now cool, now hot. Pink skin peeking from below. Down to the river. The paint washes off--away down to another place. Another time. The painted canvas is now scrubbed clean. Except for a few drops of paint in her hair. "I'll leave it in," she says, with a twinkle in her eye. "I'm on my way to a birthday party." "They'll wonder, but I won't tell!" It's our secret, captured in a second, now rushing down the river of time....