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They trigger my emotions, as they loom high overhead, each a rusting black octopus of pipes, full of memories and secrets. Their work is over. They are retired like a thoroughbred greyhound or horse, used up, run into the earth, exploited. Their scars cover them. The old paint falls from them, the rust penetrates deeper each day, disregarded by most, but realized by the few who care, who were awestruck by the white hot glow of molten steel vomited from the mouth of each furnace and the torch of gases burning off against the night sky, who watched on soft, quiet summer nights in the darkness of...

by Vahlent - Comments: 0 - Views: 387
I’m all right being alone for six days. I stay busy. I measure out my “ time capital,” in nickel and dime portions, and wonder if I’m investing wisely. I am responsible only for me.

But on Sunday, something changes. The quiet becomes quieter. The emptiness becomes emptier. It is a time for introspection, for feeling the invisible shaft of loneliness plunge deep - a time to retreat inward and light a candle. Though the sun shines, it does not repel loneliness like fire repels a wolf. I don’t choose it, but it comes, because it is Sunday.

I use distractions sometimes,...

by Vahlent - Comments: 1 - Views: 318
I am patient. I wait, clinging to the rain gutter. I have hunted them for so many years, and now I have found them. I know they are in this house, safe in her dark vault, just as they were once safe in earth’s vault eons ago. We are very old friends that the Great Mother brought together in the scheme of time. I bathed them lovingly in a secret stream for infinite years. Then the machines came and churned me into mud and slurry. When the machines left, ‘they’ were also gone. I have looked for them since.

My frozen state is short, uncertain, but I am determined. Tomorrow’s sun will threaten...

by Vahlent - Comments: 3 - Views: 980
“Please let me teach you how to polka,” he begs his reluctant companion, who sits in her secure, encircling chair. Painfully, she relents, and he leads her onto the dance floor, shrouded in shadow, her long, black hair, meticulous on her delicate head. Her large silver hoop earrings and calf-length black boots hint at another personality, perhaps desired or imagined, but as yet unfulfilled.

She takes the first awkward steps under his lead, but quickly settles into the repetitious pattern of the dance, letting the consuming melody and rhythm take control, spinning her, with black...

by Vahlent - Comments: 1 - Views: 488
Planets don't twinkle; they shine.

Venus shone with a steady brilliance, outstanding in the heavenly field. At least two people on Earth looked up to see the light on that warm winter night. As a spokesperson of our community, I will tell you their story and more about our people. Her house was in the city, but the neighbors agreed to keep the back porch lights off, unless they were being used. That is one of the peculiarities, one of the many conscientious habits, the people in Coville share.

She liked having a dark yard at night. It was February, around 7pm, and 50 degrees:...

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