The Last View Effect_Eagles Eye_The Last Assignment_Trakl on the Upper West Side
Catalog Guide:
The Last View Effect
The boy detested bedtime. Late at night, when the boy said he couldn’t sleep, his mother had cradled him in her arms, swaying slowly as the wooden rocking chair beneath her creaked. From their position on the front porch, an explosion of stars twinkled across the indigo sky. To him, the stars were specks of glitter scattered over a piece of velvet. Pretty, but nothing special. Out in the sprawling fields, little light pollution ruined the view. It’s why his mother had bought that small, quaint houswww.onedoor.cce in the first place. It wasn’t much, but the sky more than made up for it. The boy often w...
Eagles Eye
The magnificence of this mountaintop high in the clouds distracted my mind, gave me moments to think. I sat now on the top most branches of a wind blown and twisted Bristlecone Pine. My mind reeling, I felt so out of control, it was as if every one of my previous adventures had led me to this moment, this place, but I tremble violently realizing I am no longer in control!I look out from such a height that what I see is a world in miniature, more correctly it is almost as if everything is microscopic. But that is just my overview, the human brain reacting to something beyond its scope of ...
The Last Assignment
“Hey Trixie! What did I say about using the Peanut Butter Admiral Munch for the omnidrive?” It had been a long day aboard the Thresher and Ronald had really been looking forward to a nice hefty bowl of Admiral Munch with space whale milk.The pleasure of lapping up the sugary spheres had been dancing around in his mind since the pair had left the Yugbo System. He glanced out of the corner of his eye from the control deck to see Trixie’s perfectly round head peak from her position near the navigational charts. Her features, although projected from a screen, did a good job of imitating a look of...
Trakl on the Upper West Side
Among the headless mannequins of the storefront window display, a black cat sunned itself. Its owner, a beautiful vicious woman of nondescript features and indiscernible age, stroked the animal’s mane with her free hand—making the same sort of rote, listless gestures toward the cat as the cigarette did toward her face, the same listless way the blond ebb of daytime pulled plumes of smoke from her lips. I’d left the insulating comfort of a married man’s bed in the afternoon to go out hunting for a job. I boarded the train from Hoboken to the 33rd Street platform, stowed away with herds of my ...