Un Jour de Dieu ~ Sergei Aparin
He tripped across the rooftops avoiding chimney and lightning rod but drawing his own corona static blue in his wake.
The moon drew bolts of cloud curtain across the fabric of the sky, veiling its face at the funeral of night; mourning the cycles of blood and water.
She stood at the window below, the red coal on the end of her cigarette drawn adding colour to the monochrome night.
In the stairwell they waited, backs to wall while their last furtive footfalls echoing in the yellow light.
The street reflected nothing save the chrome figurine on the nose of his car – as morose and abandoned as her mood.
If anything in life is certain, it is that conclusions will be drawn from the minimum number of facts.
The moon drew bolts of cloud curtain across the fabric of the sky, veiling its face at the funeral of night; mourning the cycles of blood and water.
She stood at the window below, the red coal on the end of her cigarette drawn adding colour to the monochrome night.
In the stairwell they waited, backs to wall while their last furtive footfalls echoing in the yellow light.
The street reflected nothing save the chrome figurine on the nose of his car – as morose and abandoned as her mood.
If anything in life is certain, it is that conclusions will be drawn from the minimum number of facts.
5 comments:
If anything in life is certain, it is that conclusions will be drawn from the minimum number of facts.
Depends on those facts and how indicative they are. :)
indicative? heh, have you read any 'newspapers' recently? ;}
More facts lead to a more rounded conclusion.
true, but too many facts and figures can sometimes obscure poetic truth...
Poetic truth. Not many refer to that.
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