12 Jul 2022

All things are moving and mirrored, as they say: as above, so below. But what do the heavens know of the earth and why would they care? What sort of voice could shout louder than the traffic and the crowds, the endless whirring, resurfacing, blending?

A man on a bike on a sunny day rides past on a road be in resurfaced, a dark green sedan going the other way, a brick building o the corner of Kent and Grand.