>The day came in slowly, like knotted hair dragged slowly through a comb. Those little fists of cereal, emptied from the box, crashed quietly against the bowl and settled in silently. Coffee was a beckon-curl rising from a favourite cup. Cracked edges. Familiarity. Work was a forty minute crawl through other people’s machine-made problems. Roadworks where universal laws seemed to lapse. The arrival was no better: searching, all that searching, for a simple place to park. Someone playing a radio too loud down the morning hallways. That endless echo of footsteps, that looping sound wave of workers past, all those weekday paths returning back long after death, like the light from stars.


One thought on “>MILGRAM’S PROGRESS

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s