Arc v' Perfect and Unbelievable Hearsay

Cigarette smoke soothed as the wind hit his back.

Dead end phone calls to the south, placed outside assorted convenience markets.

redemption was still annihilation.

One Half of Twain looked at me, cocked her head, and replied, "We're such peer creatures."

Fay fell hardest for the recorded electric hum of the asylum's subterranean power system.

It rattled the windows and faded the city view to grey.

By the time the ambulance came, its medics moving far too slowly to be real, the gashes were already closing.

How many lives could possibly intersect that street?

And there, again {briefly} was the couple-weeks-ago ghost made flesh. Unfortunately, unresolved.

A rain walk through the city to the office this morning. My heart, as usual, was in an anywhere-but-here mode (rain in cities raises memories of Philadelphia and stapled pain pricks in coffee shops).

A powdery fragrance note rides the edges, like some notes in subtle colognes and perfumes.

Bound together in different shape.

What does it say of our environment when we can manufacture a new environment by building successive layers of the existing environment and find dazzling tonal pleasure by mixing the two?

I stood, hoping they would avoid my notice, feeling their winds.

Wrecked after whiskey and breakfast, I contemplated a ghost walk in the name of further self torture and boredom, but aborted.

Assorted bullet points about dinner and music.