Friday, February 9, 2018


The black of the winter night feels as if it will swallow you.  It is liquid and you are being absorbed.  The train slips through it, a bullet through ink.  Glass and fluorescent lighting attempt to repel the advance.  Interior and exterior are 50/50, the same information given and taken.

After Akashi the train clings to the coast.  The sea.  And nothing.  Direction - forward, backward, up, down - stops.  You are pulled right through the glass, and you must swim.  Enveloped in black.  It is possible to drown in this kind of black.

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