To The Person At The Bus Stop Holding A Bouquet of Red Roses by Jordan Bolton
Part of Scenes from Imagined Films
To The Person At The Bus Stop Holding A Bouquet of Red Roses by Jordan Bolton
Part of Scenes from Imagined Films
stopping at an understaffed, overcrowded fast food restaurant while on a road trip and crouching over your phone with your chicken sandwich at a corner table like a weary adventurer eating a bowl of unidentifiable stew at a nameless inn, the only one for miles of moor and wood, taking in the chatter around you but speaking to none before pulling your cloak back up over your head and taking t' the road once more
Kicking the door in at a Popeye’s connected to a gas station to ask the most grizzled and battle-scarred customers to join me on a suicidal quest
Leaning over the counter of the TacoTime in Rexburg Idaho, asking if the 16 year old Mormon girl there has heard any rumors.
stopping at an understaffed, overcrowded fast food restaurant while on a road trip and crouching over your phone with your chicken sandwich at a corner table like a weary adventurer eating a bowl of unidentifiable stew at a nameless inn, the only one for miles of moor and wood, taking in the chatter around you but speaking to none before pulling your cloak back up over your head and taking t' the road once more
Kicking the door in at a Popeye’s connected to a gas station to ask the most grizzled and battle-scarred customers to join me on a suicidal quest
Leaning over the counter of the TacoTime in Rexburg Idaho, asking if the 16 year old Mormon girl there has heard any rumors.
Vivaldi on his deathbed in 1741: please, put it into my will that the first movement of my Spring concerto can only be used to indicate fancy settings in cartoons or as hold music for the absolute worst call centres.
Vivaldi's lawyer: Antonio what the FUCK does this mean
Another thing that Terry Pratchett does so well is describing how people move in their own unique way. Nobby's method of locomotion is "a kind of sidle, and the combination of stalking and sidling created a strange effect, like a crab limping". Adora Belle Dearheart walks up to Moist like "a snake trying to sashay". I mean...
Every day
I see or hear
something
that more or less
kills me
with delight,
that leaves me
like a needle
in the haystack
of light.
It was what I was born for -
to look, to listen,
to lose myself
inside this soft world -
to instruct myself
over and over
in joy,
and acclamation.
Nor am I talking
about the exceptional,
the fearful, the dreadful,
the very extravagant -
but of the ordinary,
the common, the very drab,
the daily presentations.
Oh, good scholar,
I say to myself,
how can you help
but grow wise
with such teachings
as these -
the untrimmable light
of the world,
the ocean's shine,
the prayers that are made
out of grass?
— Mary Oliver, ‘Mindful’ from "Why I Wake Early" (Beacon Press; First Edition, April 15, 2004)
Im now picturing touch sensitive autistics just feeling a fabric and thinking. "Omg this feels like horrendous city planning i CANNOT wear this!"