The Flow | Previous Challenge Entry

how it works

TITLE: The Flow | Previous Challenge Entry
By Mark Bell
10/04/09
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It was nearly white where the sun struck it on the horizon line. The narrow flow seemed to just hang there before descending down the gentle grade towards him. The horizon seemed so far away. It was really only a few hundred meters in the distance. Ever so slowly, without any real apparent motion, it covered that distance. All along the way, the sun beat down on it, reflecting colors as it traversed the ground. White quickly changed to a golden yellow. The yellow glow changed slowly over time as red began to tinge the ribbonous flow.

The closer the flow came, the darker it became. Just this side of that golden yellow band, it turned bright orange. It had the look of a navel orange before you peel the skin, except the fluid didn’t have the dimples and ripples of an orange. Perhaps it was just a trick of the light as the sun reflected itself, showing off in the liquid mirror. Either way, it was bright and kind of inviting.

Halfway from the horizon’s edge, it was a bold red. The kind of red you expect to see on a sports car, or polyester leisure suit. It’s that red that demands your attention. It’s the kind of red that falsely declares the owner has power and authority and you must acknowledge it. This is the red that slowly changes from the bright red arterial blood to darker shades as it flows from a body.

By the time it reached his feet, it was a deep crimson. And, it looked cold, like the cold of a still, overcast winter day. The sun was shining straight down on it then. He could see his own reflection on the surface. The flow was nearly imperceptible. It almost seemed like it wanted to deny the boldness and brightness it had displayed earlier. But, that power and presence could not be denied while you watched it.

Of course, once it passed him it was mostly in shadow. The trees that were so clearly reflected behind him as he watched his face in the slow moving liquid, now cast deepening shadows as it wound it’s way past his vantage point. There was no more reflection in those shadows. It just looked black. It was a lifeless looking black, like blood that had pooled, stopped flowing and congealed. Except, this still moved. The darkening color only belied the powerful flow of the river moving past him.

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