The Fall
May 23rd, 2008 by Neema | 1 Comment
Broken concrete. Hiding place of memory. That which can be rebuilt. The fall is a dark red film to see through. It colour’s everything that was before. Shattered windows obscure, dumb into silence. Their screams reverberate and cut like frozen water. They bruise, and do not clean. The paths of evaporating tar burnt and broken [...]