Dark is the alley of the stairwell where the wellness of the building lies within. Wherein the footsteps and pitter patter of people passing by go on about the day and about their business. One floor for two, three floors for the five and two splits with the porcelains on the landings.
Running from the dank and dark of the toilets, a man with the touch of the floor tiles underneath his palms. Both and with a shot of the empty space from light with stains of many others dropping into the background. Glowing less from the cakes and more of the diodes flashing back ready to take and make the next call.
Upset of the entry, an exit of emergency. Swilling and sweeping with the urgency of right now. Right now. No later. No waiting.
Now.
Rough and crude, the flushing meadows of white with the world outside speaks to the sparkling stench of finding the levels rise up. And up. And up again. Plunging depths no more than half an arm nearby. Close call in emptiness. Close call to save from the mindless carelessness of another. Messy is the business end of the transaction's end.
Glorious luck with no splash at all. Not even a spray.
Saturday, 26 January 2008
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Elemunk scrambles the loose connections bouncing about the mind of Soon Van.
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