The Life Chronicles: The Night Train

You board several trains a night, fraught with lilac mist. Blood oranges suspended above the walkway illuminate the path. Machines that blink white churn out Morse conversations. This language, the backdrop of the otherwise blank soundscape of the night. The sky is a milky pool, dizzying to look upwards when you feel you are looking down. The platform: angular and shrouded in geometry, as the silver body of the snake arrives upon the tracks and slows to a halt. It doesn’t chug, but glides silent and serpentine. Continue reading The Life Chronicles: The Night Train

The Sky Is Not What Changes

I have looked at the sky at different times. It has been bright during the day, and starless dark late at night. I have stared at the sky while the winter wind whipped my cheeks, but I have also gazed at it when the summer sun toasted them tenderly. The truth is there is no special time to stare at the sky, except when the moon and stars are gloriously out for unusual attention. The sky is barely an evidence of change unlike us, the land-dwelling creatures. Continue reading The Sky Is Not What Changes