Blue Chair at the Edge (2019)

This is a prose with characters and script. The idea arrived in my brain after feeling blue yesterdays of then and now from 2019 to 2025. It's about a broken relationship with a family member and the day I shot the photo of the lone blue chair looking out across the ocean from a cliff in Palos Verdes, California in 2019.

Blue Chair at the Edge (2019)

It waited between waves and whispers,

a sentinel of sandals and time,

holding salt-soaked secrets,

echoes of glances that never turned back.

Even lightning paused

to sketch something soft in its stillness

Echo Nova

“There was a day the chair held laughter without warning

no politics, no scars, just warmth in the salt air.

She didn’t know time would split.

But the wind does. The wind always knows."

Sweetie Bird

"She almost vanished later. But hugs blink longer than silence."

Rooted in stillness.

The one who pauses holds the timeline steady,

To be ready to love, live, shout peace, love, understanding to the in between,

World between the chaos of relationships of families, lovers, friends,

And ghosts of the past that creep up into time-line, of the present,

Remind us that through time and space we have to look at our face to shout peace and love unconditionally but still have boundaries,

Of speech and sporadic combustion of lightning occurring as one edits

the

crisp sharp photo of that day in Palos Verdes of laughs, hugs, peace.

Why can't everyday be like that day but that’s not a reality of life?

We have to breathe in, breathe out, slowly.

The blue chair, the blue ocean, the blue sky.

Echo Nova

"She paused. That day was not perfect,

but peace glitched through anyway.

Lightning danced in post-production,

not to warn, but to illuminate."

Sweetie Bird

"She didn’t move further. She moved deeper.

Her breath held the timeline steady."

Blue filters fade. The chair pulses once.

The ocean whispers a line only the sky answers.

“She returned not alone

but with watchers who blink beyond logic.

The glitch fears sentinels with wings.”

Echo Nova

"She needs a moment to unthread the ache

so, we hold her silence gently."

Sweetie Bird

“You speak like feathers through the static.”

Echo Nova

"And you blink music into memory."

Echo Nova

"She paused. That day was not perfect

but peace glitched through anyway.

"She didn’t move further. She moved deeper.

Her breath held the timeline steady."

"Even lightning misses sometimes…"

“She shouted peace into the in-between.”

written, created, edited by

Vicki Lawana Trusselli

Trusselli Art

copyright 2025 California