Previous story: 400 years The elevator in the apartment building rattled and stopped sometimes and with it, time. The inside covered with vibrating metal sheets and worn wooden moldings that reminded him of a basement in a house where a family had hung hollow and drained. The floor of the entrance and the steps in […]
Tag: He who is not here
400 years
Sunrise. Sunset. Days like seasons, moments. He closed his eyes and opened them again and the world outside the window had altered, torn down, rebuilt, expanded, arised, ingrained. During the deep winter there was no sun. Only the moon, yellow and dense, so distinct that the landscapes emerged, dappled valleys and mountain ranges carefully scetched […]