by Omphalodes
Blithe was just in time to see the world en flambé from the rooftop. Staring down amongst strangers, she imagined a merciless troubadour coaxing the orange flames through the streets on a drowsy steed. The saltwater of the bay did not lift a finger. Clouds hung low, but no rain to speak of. Everyone waited.
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Town Falls Down
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment