dreamless dreams
I was walking the streets of a city I will never visit, lost in the rush of traffic and a sea of faceless faces. Descending into the subway, the mournful sound of an accordion is swallowed by an oncoming train. The musician’s expression never changes: he knows that he is playing for the ghosts who lurk in the shadows, just beyond those places that have never seen the light.
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I was walking the streets of a city I will never visit, lost in the rush of traffic and a sea of faceless faces. Descending into the subway, the mournful sound of an accordion is swallowed by an oncoming train. The musician’s expression never changes: he knows that he is playing for the ghosts who lurk in the shadows, just beyond those places that have never seen the light.
1 Comments:
nice ...
i respectfully recommend
Mark Slouka's novel, The Visible World...
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