New York city is concrete and granite. Basalt and sidewalk. Sometimes the rain falls and it doesn't know where to go. There is no comforting green to welcome it home but hard pavement and unrepentant, undulating car tires.
The water panics. It can't go anywhere. It rushes the water treatment plant in howling whirlpools and frantic waves. It flings itsself into New York Bay and brings the filth of the city with it.
Attempted updates at the whim of the moon from the adventures of a queer on a quest to find themself and save the world.
Friday, July 6, 2018
Today it rained
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