Dispatch № 79: Transmitter
In the context of universal infinite immensity, the shrine is vanishingly small. We as humans even more so.
Dispatch № 78: A Different Model
The street running past my apartment building has no name. This is neither a fluke nor uncommon.
Dispatch № 77: Blemished
It represents a fool’s errand in human pursuits and is as about as common as hen’s teeth in nature.
Dispatch № 76: Truncated
Even just staring up into the branches was a joy, watching the sky sparkle through shifting gaps in the foliage.
Dispatch № 75: Fleeting Escape
Sand below us, water in front of us, the great mountain sitting huge in the blue haze to our right.
Dispatch № 74: Loud as Flowers
You feel you are swimming in a saturated, soporific concoction of apricot, honey, and hypnagogia, with undercurrents of the autumn sun’s penetrating warmth.
Dispatch № 73: Zones
My old apartment was simple in this way. Leave your shoes at the door and that’s it. No other changes to make
Dispatch № 72: For a Limited Time
Soft stridulations waft like lithe wisps of wood smoke on the gentle evening breeze, the crickets calling tenderly under the waxing crescent moon.
Dispatch № 71: Troublesome Gaps
While it is entirely possible that, by the time we visit again, new buildings and businesses will occupy those spaces, it is also possible that they will remain empty for a long while.
Dispatch № 70: Rainfall
Greatest among the differentiating factors is that of the surface upon which the rain lands, drops of rain like tiny hands striking the skins of myriad drums.