Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Thousand: One Hundred Ninety-Six

anymore. It’s like he never had it. It was a mirage. After he’d walked through it he looked back and nothing was there. How could it be real? It left a residue, a new last name. “Obie. Is that Irish?” “Obie. Are you related to the Obie of the Obie Awards?” Once he dreamt he was flying. He soared over the a checkerboard of green and greener fields. A city appeared on the horizon. As it came closer he lost altitude. The air grew bumpy. A skyscraper of blue glass loomed. As soon as he realized he was going to

2 comments:

Elisabeth said...

Ireland features here. Ireland is in the news, economic downfalls and all that. A fascinating post, as ever, Glenn.

Glenn Ingersoll said...

Ireland. Leprechauns. Maybe there's a connection.

Thanks, Elisabeth. The encouragement helps. Been pushing through a lot of resistance lately.