Catalogue | Souvenirs | E-mail | Links
«Pop goes the ... | Front | 360x360x104 »

August 31, 2003
streaky sky

There are very soft layers of whitish ribbons in the sliver of sky I can see from here. The smell of the air is the softest, sweetest, late summerish kind. There used to be many bird sounds just a few minutes ago. Now there is a single bird, making one single sound. It is still good. The panels of the blinds are hitting the books on the window. Not very far away from here, a soft wind chime is trapped in a series of harmonious sequences.
The plant on the air conditioner in the window seems much taller than the trees in the distance. I guess this is how the world works anyway.
I think I can hear the train, parked in the station about a kilometer from here. It is the last stop. The operators never turn off the trains.
There is a new bird now, a different song. The chimes, the train. A car?... silence.
I woke up this morning and was surprised to hear that my neck sounded as if there were sand trapped in my spine. Just moved my neck again... and it is still there.
I think I wish I could turn myself into a tiny blue object and just float to a place where all things appear to have the same size. All larger than me, of course...
It might be time to walk out into this sunny, cool, quiet day...

Post a comment

Email Address:



Remember info?