[ST (Jan 2, 2006)]
There's a window, and a parking lot ceiling which moves about revealing a late afternoon winter sky high above the ground. There's the side of a white five-storey building with black big letters across the top, and the sound of an engine car negotiating a mild slope. And there are trees, eucalypti, which slip past the window at high speed, and phone posts, and wires that hang between those. There's birds sometimes, seagulls, and clouds above occupying room in the stage. There's the elongated white smoke of a jet's wake, slowly fading away at the far end. There's traffic lights too and invisible forces and holes in the tarmac and bumps at a railway, a siding by then. And there's suddenly a multitude of buildings past the window, and lights and voices and a forest of antennas, and a Cartesian grid of windows, balconies, and façades, all speeding up and down past the window. And there's the loud noise of a metallic garage door sliding up, and the two consecutive bumps in the pavement's kerb and the step into the garage, and the sight of a dim-lighted bulb much too covered in dust in the corner. And there's a boy lying flat on an old car's back seat, making ready to get out.
There's a window, and a parking lot ceiling which moves about revealing a late afternoon winter sky high above the ground. There's the side of a white five-storey building with black big letters across the top, and the sound of an engine car negotiating a mild slope. And there are trees, eucalypti, which slip past the window at high speed, and phone posts, and wires that hang between those. There's birds sometimes, seagulls, and clouds above occupying room in the stage. There's the elongated white smoke of a jet's wake, slowly fading away at the far end. There's traffic lights too and invisible forces and holes in the tarmac and bumps at a railway, a siding by then. And there's suddenly a multitude of buildings past the window, and lights and voices and a forest of antennas, and a Cartesian grid of windows, balconies, and façades, all speeding up and down past the window. And there's the loud noise of a metallic garage door sliding up, and the two consecutive bumps in the pavement's kerb and the step into the garage, and the sight of a dim-lighted bulb much too covered in dust in the corner. And there's a boy lying flat on an old car's back seat, making ready to get out.
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