Book of Days
1. The arrangements of lights on the cracking towers are a segment of Orion's belt, the handle of the Big Dipper and a section of Andromeda's spine. Every miniature star glows hazy in the yellow-brown duplicate night.
2. On Christmas Eve the wind comes twined with gas from the chemical plants. People celebrate the Spirits of Industry in the streets. They shoot weapons into the air. The bullets fall on other neighborhoods like the monarchs returning to San Juan Capistrano.
3. Most days I spend time in my garden of words. Some grow in the air at the ends of long, transparent vines. Others are low to the ground: when you step on them they give off a scent like chamomile.
|
3
favs |
1190 views
5 comments |
124 words
All rights reserved. |
Author's Note
Something based on a different aspect of the same correspondence about a house in a city where the wind only comes on Christmas Eve.
Enjoy.
Other stories by stephen hastings-king
Tags
This story has no tags.
eloquent...esp. liked
"Others are low to the ground: when you step on them they give off a scent like chamomile."
Yeah, liked the last one vur much.
gorgeous. I wanted the Christmas Eve wind to come "twinned" rather than "twined" simply for the sound of it.*
Great density and lyricism.
thanks much for having a look and for the comments. they're much appreciated.
i feel like i can see the place the piece is about, which is a good thing that comes with a complication, which is that i have trouble seeing this from a reader's viewpoint. i think it works.