föstudagur, júlí 21, 2006


All light is grayed out when the rain hits. The river disappears. The bridge vanishes. Thunder resounds. Lightning sparks. I can make out the brick wall of the adjacent building, thickly furred with ivy. The passing billows of wind make the leaves ripple like the pelt of a huge animal buffeted by rough waters.

1 ummæli:

tristan sagði...

wagon-loads of thunder trundling across the roof-tops

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