Out of the glare of a platinum-yellow sun, more Algerian than outer borough, an eagle glided towards a blanched chimney. Its wings flared forward to halt its descent, landing softly in silence. Head cocked, it cast a dark, atavistic eye towards me. The silence continued. I grabbed a quick shot. As my left hand shielded my eyes from its gaze, it gave a shriek, which reverberated in the pit of my soul. How it was I'll never know, but I could understand it as words, as words illumined with cold fire. "Fool," it cried. "How dare you try to capture me. You'll never top four with this pittance of an image." Deep down in my shattered being I knew this to be true. I recoiled in horror, the camera a bane about my neck. I tumbled off the curb into the street, the sickening sound of shattered glass and sundered metal my last pathetic memory.
And it came to pass.
Message edited by author 2019-04-10 22:36:21. |
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