This be the story of two children, Slim and Sam; Sam was slim, Slim was not.
Going into the forest one day, Slim found a dead bird in his way. He came home crying for the small feathered being.
Going into the forest one day, Sam found a dead fox in his way. He came home crying for the small furry being.
Going into the forest one day, Slim and Sam didn’t find a dead bear in their way. They ran home crying.
Not going into the forest one day, nobody found Slim and/or Sam in any way. They didn’t come home crying.
Torn paper fills the sky as does it on a wedding. Some are on the ground[looking at the sky], some are in the sky[looking all over]; some are watching, others are just curious. Most don’t know a thing.
From above, from the chopper in the air, sun light is seen flashing down below, from the thousands pieces of broken glass, like stars on the pavement.
Black smoke rushes out and up, away from the broken window. The fire truck is here, splashing about hoses and gallons of foamy water; with no use for there is no fire left to burn.
Wet policemen strap the whole building in long yellow tape, making knots as they go past each corner.
A news van has just arrived into the area and the underpaid crew gets ready for a cheap satellite connection with no guarantee of a raise or of their own safety.
The local barbershop is still open and some clients with foam on their faces and/or half shaved heads, have gathered round to see why the barber is shouting in the middle of the street that “The end is near!”. A wet fireman gets him out of the way of the incoming ambulance.
Blue and red light flashes everywhere.
Soon the whole scene is empty, only torn paper on the streets, rubble as well, and the yellow plastic barrier. You would have though that people can be more considering for such an undocumented tragedy. They can be.
A bouncing ball crosses the street, past the barrier, into the ruined building. He gets the ball and goes not back. He goes up the stairs, driven by curiosity, and the thrill of being found and punished for being “a bad boy”.
The first floor looks normal[his father worked here and often took him along].
The second floor didn’t look as normal as the first. It was more than different: a huge hole in the wall made for a nice view of the city. On the opposite side a door was missing. He went in.
The same: torn paper, broken glass.
There was blood on the floor.
He went home running, crying his way down the stairs, under the yellow barrier, past the street and into an apartment building nearby; leaving his ball in the room, beside the place where a human figure lay drawn on the floor.
This be the story of two bald men. Their names are of little importance, though we shall refer to them as Slim and Sam. Sam was smart, so was Slim.
Sam went to work every day, as did Slim.
They went to work to earn their pay, and came home on the very same day [they were both good at what they did].
Going to work one day, Sam met Slim on his way. They both went home that day, early.
Going to work the next day, Slim sought to meet Sam on his way. It didn’t happen.
Working his way to the end of the day, Slim met Sam, who came to say hello.
Going to work every day, Sam never met Slim.
And here are some photos I made with the d40:
"So, there I was, minding my own business and having a peanut butter and jelly sandwich my wife made..."
A bouncing ball crosses the street, past the barrier, into the ruined building. He gets the ball and goes not back. He goes up the stairs, driven by curiosity, and the thrill of being found and punished for being “a bad boy”.
While walking down the street, he came by two men. They were talking near the corner store, each holding one donut.
The town is beautiful at night.
A hand stretches a key. The sleeve is garbled where the elbow is; it makes some noise as the arm turns the key in the lock; the tie shifts its position leaning in one side. The noise stops, and the sounds of the other side are now growing. It rains. Left as it was, the key moves with the door as it opens. The key stops not far from the wall as does the door, leaving the cold air to replace the warm atmosphere from inside. It was raining for some time now, striking down from heaven with small drops of crystal clear water. The suit was getting wet as the rapid steps followed each other, all heading toward a black car across the street. He stops before opening the car door and looks up. Behind, left as it was, the corridor shined away all the light from outside. The light bulbs have shorted out and only the moon lit sky made some features visible; it was long, as all worthy corridors are. The car disappeared into the dark rainy night. A dust thread flies in the air, dodging rain drops, carried away by gentle cold wind.
