Thoughts on the eclipse, and glass, and under glass. From the Janet side.
“… The lunatic is on the grass./ The lunatic is on the grass./ Remembering games and daisy chains and laughs./ Got to keep the loonies on the path.” – Pink Floyd, Dark Side of the Moon
No one from my office had a camera. We looked around at each other and the human spectacle. We looked at our feet on the sidewalk…we made small talk. The sky was blue, and there wasn’t much wind. Someone had a welder’s mask, like a ritual mask from a different time.
I was expecting an alien invasion with Independence Day destruction. What else could there be, with tiny bright crescents in the tree shadows, the spiders taking down their webs, birds falling from the sky, mosquitoes believing in their blood dusk, the confusion of wandering herds, distant crop circles bringing in the day?
An acquaintance of mine, a famous writer from some invaded place…
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