Wednesday, December 21, 2016

In Passing

Something about the sight of a listing staircase, glimpsed for a moment through an open door, or lit up, through a window at night. Sometimes you might have predicted the shift, but at other times its looks come as a surprise, a secret hidden behind its building's prim, upright facade. There's something intimate in catching it like this, dressed in linoleum & settling into old age, and I'm filled with affection. This city of ours.

No comments: