Is it raining yet? Is there a chance of rain? Has it rained? Is that smoke I see coming out of the chimney across the street? Is this a picture? Am I looking at something that isn’t moving outside my window? Is that rain? Is that the sound of dragons, dungeons, wildlife, air purifiers, birds, fate? What was the illness I didn’t know by name that made the man’s left eye open incompletely (the one who was begging paradoxically, using a plastic brochure stand as his lectern, like a preacher)? What was his soul affliction? (What’s mine?) Continuar a ler “PROSE AND POEMS – by Susan Pensak”
