The grocery store's parking lot is only half full, cars and trucks clustered nearest the entrance, some rusty older models on their last legs before a final journey to the scrapyard. They disgorge single mothers with scads of flustered children into the litter and detritus accumulated there, too daunting for an apathetic staff to keep up with. Heat shimmer rises from the pitted asphalt in waves, causing me to blink and feeling slightly dizzy -
I imagine myself as some sort of ominous bird soaring high above this scene, looking down on the checkerboard of white stripes and streetlamps, over the hot tar roofs, empty lots, the gas stations and rubble of defunct factories, land become idle, until the entire image takes on the orderliness of a handsewn quilt thrown across the somnolent form of a great prairie, its amber grasses bent by breaths of wind that could sweep an entire continent clean.
even the crows worrying
*May 22, 2018* Tibetan language rights advocate Tashi Wangchuk was sentenced to five years in prison today, accused of ‘separatism’ after appearing in a N...