Temperate conditions outside see the people walking about stream up a sweat in their suits and slacks. Over the black roads and faceless buildings for the homeless, those wearing layers on layers start to feel something along their brows. Moisture for some, dreary expectations and the feat of defeat for others.
On the inside, where the cold is a condition of contracts, the climate falls prey to the tweakings of various fingers fighting for the right to rule the thermostat. Rule they must, for it is a declaration of war on anything that may seem uncomfortable and loose from the practice of zen.
Along the city's streets it's warm and rising. Not wanting to face the degrees, the carpets and desks of the floor flip it over and unleash a deluge toward the single digits.
Too far down they go though, as the lips on the people quiver with constant remarks about how cold it is on the inside and questioning the whereabouts of a few degrees, not seen in a second with the drop to cold and dive to freeze.
Wednesday, 25 October 2006
» Talkin' 'bout your Generation - Spare the room, spare the bed
« BTC 33: Double dare on the spare
Elemunk scrambles the loose connections bouncing about the mind of Soon Van.
Feel free to ask questions on any topic. Or spend some quality killswitch time poking about reading the vintage synapses
Or maybe a torrid trail of job interviews?
Elementary Funk by Soon Van is licensed under a Creative Commons License. Feel free to read up on the scope of the copyright over the posts and photos.
Results may not reflect actual experiments executed