John Palcewski (forioscribe) wrote,
John Palcewski
forioscribe

No Faces





Yesterday I threw several books in my satchel and rather than drive I walked a couple miles to the library to return them. The sky was perfectly clear, the temperature was an agreeable 70 degrees. I expected to feel elation that winter had finally passed, but a harsh, empty quality of the light made everything seem alien, as if I were suddenly thrust into one of an infinite number of alternate universes. There is no home here, I thought, nor familiar faces. Actually there are no faces, not even mine.




























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