Friday, January 07, 2011
Thousand: Two Hundred Forty-Eight
him to the left until they are standing in the night half. The city lights. Don’t they dazzle! The burning building down town. The flames fill the smoke with an orange glow at its base, though as it rises Samuel loses track of it. Did the plane crash there? he asks. Ed shakes his head. You’re not following me. This is all show. Alternate realities intersect repeatedly every day. If something terrible happens to you, say you are tortured to death by the fanatical followers of the dictator, in another version of your life you escape to exile with hundreds
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment