4 colour photographs, 25 x 33 cm.
4 photographies couleur, 25 x 33 cm.
A Closer View...
An exquisite porcelain vase fell to the ground as if in slow motion, shattering into pieces of many sizes, all sharp edges, spinning off in every direction across the honey-coloured oak floor, several large pieces coming to rest along the edge of the pale grey wall. On one jagged fragment a small bird perched upon a branch of pink blossom raised its head skywards, singing as ever a clear and enchanting song.
It was a wild party and, by all accounts, not without its moments of squalor. When she arrived for work the next morning a choking smell of vomit still hung in the air. Whiskey bottles, beer cans and butt-filled ashtrays littered every horizontal surface. Someone had scrawled in mauve lipstick across the kitchen wallpaper with its optimistic floral sprays and swags of ribbon, a message to his/her cheating heart: fuck you Terry. An all-day job.
The storm blew in unannounced, blew the back screen door off its hinges. A branch from the old maple tree smashed into the elegant porch in front where wet wicker furniture now lay scattered about, steaming in the late morning heat. Soggy pink and green ruffle-edge pillows littered the floor and a framed photograph of a smiling child stood serenely on its small table, its glass shattered.
She gasped. A full glass of wine tipped over, spilling its guts onto the new white carpet. The stain spread out in fingers until it measured perhaps ten by twelve inches. It clung to the surface at first, then slowly, slowly it was absorbed by each delicate fibre, sinking deep into the plush pile. Even now, if you push aside the blue damask armchair, close inspection in good light will reveal a faint beige discolouration.