Dispatch № 82: Hidden Away
Plants are good at that, at keeping secrets subterranean and contained.
Dispatch № 81: Capsule Elegy
Few buildings ever manage to command such remarkable presence, and many that do lose their edge as the rest of architecture catches up around them.
Dispatch № 80: The Old Life
In the winter months, kerosene trucks drive slowly through neighborhoods in the evening, making their presence known with a repeating announcement played over a loudspeaker, accompanied by the tune of an old children’s song.
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