I remember the first months in the city, I was puzzled by people wearing black, as if in mourning. Months and years passed. Slowly, I wore darker clothes, without knowing why. Not only during the grey season, all the time. Did I forget Spring would come, clearer skies? Did I ignore the cheerful chorus … Continue reading Untouchable
The little daemons I used to see, at the crossroads, or standing high up on roofs, pretending to be busy, have gone. Or, perhaps, I have stopped noticing them, or they have stopped inviting me to see them. What does it mean? Is it because the city is now used to me, no longer … Continue reading Hidden
Was passiert? What's happening in this city? Smiling faces have disappeared, hoods are on, ugly trolls march in the streets... Some disrespectful punks have pinched my venerable old bike!! The friendly round little diablotins have morphed into ugly scumbags, the air smells of sulphur... A few days away, and this is a different place, … Continue reading Die Stadt, und die Stadt #WritersWednesday
Weekly Writing Challenge #169 The demon bowed low, and attempted to spin his speech, as if it felt a surge of guilt. I had to smile, even as I felt like having a rant at those annoying busy-bodies. I ignored the fellow, and went back to my page, and the story of a city … Continue reading This page #fivewords
Weekly Writing Prompt #161 We can no longer tour the City as it was, and yet, in the dawn hour, we can chase its ghosts. For we ourselves change, under its spell, and we too evolve into something of the past, an obscure picture in the dust of Time. Inspired by the Secret Keeper's … Continue reading Babylon #fivewords
Proxy She roams the streets, a pale, almost immaterial silhouette, the thin shadow of a woman. Yet the eyes are much alive, piercing blue, observing the passers-by, decrypting the smiles, or the tears. She reads the lives, the stories, the pain, the joy, she does not need to talk with people, they are an … Continue reading Proxy #thedailypost
For her, the City is the charmed valley, and she is the river, forever flowing, undulating through her tree-lined streets. She loves the fluid crowds of her boulevards, as she picks up men or women for the evening feast. For she is a predator, swift and silent beauty without name.
We met by chance, one of those city encounters, that usually lead nowhere. But it was your dress, the colour matching your smile, the shape of you, suddenly more visible than if you had been naked: I looked at you as a photographer, then as a poet, then - yes of course - as a … Continue reading #FiveSentenceFiction: Scarlet
Your dream place What is your dream place in this world? Perhaps it is where you live already, perhaps a city you have visited, perhaps somewhere you read about? What inspires you there, what is special for you? Are you sharing that place with anyone? And, if you write, have you written about your … Continue reading #BlogMeMaybe: May 16 – May I ask something about you?