Icebergs.
By Braz King.
Julia Saberhagen is soaked with sweat. In silent darkness she takes in a slow deep breath, sending it down her back and into her legs to relieve the strain of stillness. She has been in the narrow air duct above the main gallery room of the McMichael Art Gallery for eight hours now and has barely moved. Only twice, when the pain became excruciating, did she roll slowly onto her side to shift the weight to different muscles and let the blood circulate to the aching places. She arrived at the Gallery yesterday, blending into the small crowd of art lovers, then hid in the basement store room at closing time. At 8 p.m. she picked a precise route into the duct over the entry way.
