Perspective. It's the one thing we all can agree we have, but also the same thing we can't see eye to eye on. It can draw us together and pull us apart. Perspective makes us ponder what we know, the very existence of that knowledge. "Is it real?" we might ask ourselves after a dream that seemed so vivid, seamless. "Am I sure?" we might mull around until we aren't sure which end is up. Perspective is simple, and yet complex. One could argue that perspective is simple because it's either a part of your worldview, or not. And even besides that, you have a perspective that you just aren't aware of yet. Or, you could argue that perspective is complex because it has both good and bad components, impartialities, and no shortage of logical fallacies as it is open to numerous interpretations. Regardless of how you choose to argue that point, you cannot argue the fact that it is interesting to take a step back from your own life and perspective to delve into that of another. Try another person's "shoe of perspective" on for size. I've found that it is invaluable, the lessons that you can learn from viewing the hills and valleys of life from a friend's perspective.
Although a fictional piece, Philip writes a tension filled short story about perspective. The idea I drew from it, is that perspective matters. Words and diction set the stage for readers' interpretation, and can even influence what they might take away. Thick with figurative language, irony, and graphic imagery, Philip Kendall's "Perspective" will have you on the edge of your seat from start to finish. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did!
- Grace Columbine
08 January 2020
As I walked into the room, I was greeted by signs of an intense struggle. Two knives lay at odd angles on a counter, their blades smeared with thick, red fluid, their handles slick with sweat. The formerly white tile floor was spattered with sweat, and clear and scarlet liquid mixed on the counter between the knives. A glass container lay beside the befouled knives, filled with a fleshy, reddish mass. A fiendish machine whirred in the corner, pumping strange rays into more of the fleshy mass. Numbers on the control dial glowed a sickly green, indicating the minutes until the process was complete. A strong aroma filled the air.
The microwave beeped. I took out the food, put the pan back in the freezer, and cleaned up the knives I had used to pry the frozen pieces out of the pan. I then sat down, thanked God for the meal, and began to eat my lasagna.
- Philip Kendall
Edition written 08 October 2019
Meet the Author
Philip Kendall is originally from Guinea, but is currently living here to attend Dakar Academy. With no shortage of mind blowing ideas, he has loved learning to express them with an expansive vocabulary since he was of age that he could hold a pencil.
An award winning (1st place in No Shave November) member of society, Philip has captured the eyes of many with his amazing attention to detail, and thoughtful verbiage.
Not only does he write fiction, and write it well, he also has dabbled in poetry. Thunderstorm is one of his many realistic pieces of poetry that I have been given the pleasure of releasing next. Keep on the lookout for its release in the upcoming days!
Remember to drop a comment on Facebook (or email me) if you would like to see more of Philip's work, or if you have a piece of your own that you are interested in submitting.
Until next time dear readers,