In the jetliner flying westward across the continent where at such a height the sun will have stopped setting to linger in the long in-curving grapefruit crescent of the horizon for what’ll seem like forever.
Hiking through numerous minefields in the annexed Golan Heights of Israel but never stepping on any mines. This’ll be near death experience No. 6.
Is there a word or phrase that is currently sloughing off glowing sheaves of radioactivity? Think about this word. Describe a remote and foreign landscape.
Shot like an exocet from Echo Park you’ll wind high the gears in the Ducati and absolutely howl! into the Glendale freeway’s heavy traffic not even merging anymore but taking all four lanes as your own right to corner steeper in an exercise of absolute agency
Examiners dressed in hazmat suits will number and photograph your wardrobe, pick apart your medicine cabinet, vacuum your bed sheets, collect the hair from your sweaters, number each of your possessions, lining them up on a vinyl sheet on the lawn.
A supple blue and dark tapestry depicting a global narrative of destruction and terror across vast landscapes of catastrophe all sown in silver thread with the utmost craft and elegance. Startled to think of it early one morning you’ll leap from your bed-chamber and down the long hallway crying “I must have it!”