Tag: gray
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shimmer
“There was something in the back hallway,” my wife tells me over dinner. “I saw it right before we were leaving.” “What did you see?” She thinks for a moment. “It was a blur in the air, almost shimmering. Just a movement…” Gooseflesh on my arms, the back of my neck. “That’s interesting you say…
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ghost weather
Early summer afternoon. Overcast skies. Waiting for storms. The house is gray. Quiet. Pale light from outside, dim within. The air still, dead. Every room feels empty and full at the same time. An unseen crowd gathers. Something around every corner. Watchful. Waiting. Patient.
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afternoon nap
Mind wandering around as I waited for sleep to come, dozy logic moving from Macon Leary to Edward Gorey to Ernest Hemmingway . . . then, the image of a local highway, the flashing lights of police cars against the pale winter sky.
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eastern promises
I find myself on a tour of a city somewhere in Eastern Europe. It is a dank, darkly industrial place — all smokestacks and ornate spires, brick walls stained with soot. Tagging along with a friend from junior high — he has made this trip many times before — I wander through the streets and…
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dust and bones
Dreaming of empty houses. Rooms like vaulted graves, Corners filled with dust and bones.