Wednesday, 23 October 2013

Phenomenology

















You’re in this city. 

The noise is overwhelming, though it is strictly forbidden to speak under pain of death. 

There are thousands of moons in the inky black sky. 

Hoping no one will notice you reach for a familiar hand. 

Instantly klaxons sounds, the moons all go out. 

The light is dazzling. 

You’re in the countryside. 

Quite alone. 

One by one the moons come back out again. 

It’s darker than ever. 

You roll into a ditch for safety, shivering, listening to the hooting owls. 

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