A Hopeless Elegy For A Place Of False Grace_The Impossible Case_The Day the Earth Turned Black_Long
Catalog Guide:
A Hopeless Elegy For A Place Of False Grace
That’s the thing about this city-A place to stop and seeAll glories of men and GodsResiding watchfully upon the mountain hill.There were simple accolades last night,Of the right whispering of sights,Music, smells, merry-making and more, The touches of sensory delight, pine. That’s the thing about this city;On the streets, crowds I see,Engaging, embracing talks of glorious fireworks,In the spirit of pure festivities.Spectacles that one deigns not miss,For a time upon them promisesA night of warm bright lights,Piercing through the coldest, darkest streets.That’s the thing about this city;A place...
The Impossible Case
That’s the thing about this city… the people aren’t people! I mean, they are people in that they look like people--but they don’t act like people. I know this sounds insane but this city doesn’t have a single real person! Sure, they may look like human beings: They wear clothes, walk on two legs, talk in complete sentences, and seem, overall, like your average kind of crowd. New York, or at least what I think is New York, is a big, bustling city. My brain gets fuzzy when I think about it too much, but shouldn’t people be staring at something? Not a soul. Nobody is glancing at someone, nobody i...
The Day the Earth Turned Black
Young Chakara stood at the window of his unassuming home, looking out at the dust-covered roads of the capital. It was April in Cambodia, which meant dry season kept the country quite warm during this time. People liked to stay inside in the daytime in an attempt to stay cooler in the shade. But in the year 1975, people had been staying inside for a completely different reason: the bombs. As war waged in neighboring Vietnam, the United States had been dropping plane-loads of bombs onto Cambodia, an innocent bystander, in an effort to destroy all Communist aid that could be flowing into Vietnam...
Long Shadows
Three-day blizzard had left the streets with a brilliant white coat. Something abouwww.onedoor.cct white of snow like yellow of a flame has always mesmerized me. I could feel them on my skin, not a faint feeling, but a strong and bold burning sensation. It is the charm of extremes, which leaves every other experience to pale in comparison, leaving no memorable impression. Stepping away from the window, I whiffed around the room like a dog, trying to feel her scent under my nose, but it had dissipated after three days, in spite of keeping all the doors and windows shut. I danced and tip toed in between shard...