After the crash we float like ghosts

After the crash, we float like ghosts, moving about the old main street unnoticed and silently marveling at the high pitched roofs and tall windows of these old houses, taking in the glow of warm light of the interiors. The long incandescent puddles projecting out through the panes onto the thick blanket of silencing snow… Continue reading After the crash we float like ghosts

More empires and ruins

Something in the air shifts, and I lie down with the cows before the rain arrives. It isn’t barometric.