Mayflies (2014)
Mayflies
“The streets and sidewalks are marked with a trail of our damp footprints, yet we are nowhere to be found. We sing all of the old songs, march in a line like children. At night, in summer, our steam rises. You believe you see a hand emerge from the water, a dark soaked head of hair that turns toward you. You think you see us in windows and doorways, in dining halls and tea rooms. We are there, beside you but we are not there. We are there beside you and we are there and not. We are always there ...beside you.
A new moon. The kind seen in daytime. A chance of snow or freezing rain. The heat wave was predicted to last several more weeks, and the newly hatched mayflies covered everything. In meadows, crickets formed their songs. In the songs, a train from far away, an ear pressed to the rails. Something sloshing. All of the ladies in their Egyptian costumes were standing on the balustrades, their arms and hands making sharp angles. Hundreds of ladies and hundreds of angles.
I moved through corridors.MoreLess
A new moon. The kind seen in daytime. A chance of snow or freezing rain. The heat wave was predicted to last several more weeks, and the newly hatched mayflies covered everything. In meadows, crickets formed their songs. In the songs, a train from far away, an ear pressed to the rails. Something sloshing. All of the ladies in their Egyptian costumes were standing on the balustrades, their arms and hands making sharp angles. Hundreds of ladies and hundreds of angles.
I moved through corridors.MoreLess
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