Car’s on the red.
In the gas station the thing won’t start. I take it out of gear with my left hand and put it back in, turning the ignition key several times for that reassuring spark. Nothing happens. I’m gasping, mouth becomes dry, and I’m blocked in. I look in the mirror. See their snarling faces. Behind me people are waiting. There’s something about a town that swells out like a disease. Mandibles stretch out and around the throat of the country, suffocating and scraping civilization into nature and clawing you inwards one dream at a time.
The dashboard lights flicker off as the engine starts to turn over.
Were the streets of medieval Paris as filthy and crime-ridden as the choking streets I walk down today? Spilt milkshakes are creamy pink on the pavement. I put my foot in it. All this greasy and aggressive competition does nothing but make me increasingly numb. The muddy leaves coagulate in heaps of mushy matter in the gardens of the houses and around the gnarled trees which seek to free themselves from the pavement. All matter is pushing upwards to get a fresh breath of air, climbing and crawling upwards with arms outstretched to the heavens in hope.
In the gas station the thing won’t start. I take it out of gear with my left hand and put it back in, turning the ignition key several times for that reassuring spark. Nothing happens. I’m gasping, mouth becomes dry, and I’m blocked in. I look in the mirror. See their snarling faces. Behind me people are waiting. There’s something about a town that swells out like a disease. Mandibles stretch out and around the throat of the country, suffocating and scraping civilization into nature and clawing you inwards one dream at a time.
The dashboard lights flicker off as the engine starts to turn over.
Were the streets of medieval Paris as filthy and crime-ridden as the choking streets I walk down today? Spilt milkshakes are creamy pink on the pavement. I put my foot in it. All this greasy and aggressive competition does nothing but make me increasingly numb. The muddy leaves coagulate in heaps of mushy matter in the gardens of the houses and around the gnarled trees which seek to free themselves from the pavement. All matter is pushing upwards to get a fresh breath of air, climbing and crawling upwards with arms outstretched to the heavens in hope.
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