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