scott-plain

September 6, 2024

The plain was dry and cold and covered in an icy sheet for there had been no sun in that place, no font of warmth, until one chimeric morning the sun first dawn above the distant hill and spanned the horizon line with its pallid and steaming glare illuminating the new cerulean firmament and below it the shades of the Earth came to life as if a brush were dragged over paper, a watercolor iconography captured across mossy stone.

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Thought:

“If the dream ever played out completely, all the people in my life would show up in one room or another in unimaginable combinations. Even the dead would carry on a second life in the onyx-and-ormolu dusk of the cocktail lounge, regaling each other with posthumous adventures.”

Gary Indiana | “Borrowed Times”

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