Thursday, April 7, 2011
The river was about 50 metres deep, making the danger of drowning palpable and the sense of mortality real. Swept from the grey sky, the wind blew harsh and the tiny sail boat swayed precariously. A little boy sat crossed-legged at the helm, his eyes were clossed. It had begun to pour and his head was filling quick with images of paper boats that continously floated into a gutter. But suddenly his resolve is as unshakeable as iron. Holding the moment, he exhales; he cleares his mind and a magnificent yellow sun begins to vanquish the steel grey rain.