Unhearable Undulating Utterance

Posted: May 18, 2014 in Uncategorized

I was there again, in my dreams, the public room made of trees and hotel beds. Just past the Golden Dog and the O’Horror’s diner, in the city I once knew so well. Even in the meat of summer that room glowed in brilliant autumn yellows and oranges, a quiet haven in the middle of the city, where the air is crisp and cold. It is park land, and so the rangers came to confiscate the contraband, but with the right permissions, we were okay to lay on our backs on the curiously clean sheets and stare up at a quilt made out of dead and drying leaves. Dots of sunlight pierced the cracks, and in the next room, an assortment of machines from the decades gone by. It felt like the kind of place I could spend a million years of purgatory in, provided I had the right company. And my company last night was right enough. Enough so that I am awake today, my sinuses blockaded and my day spoken for with a great variety of things unfinished, and I wish that I could lay back down and see those trees again.

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