💾 Archived View for brachycera.diptera.casa › writing › poems › sounds.txt captured on 2024-12-17 at 10:06:07.
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i don't smoke i hear the rain pitter-pattering on my umbrella and hitting the pavement along distant conversations of strangers on their way home from work or some such thing the sound of a harmonica is echoing off the buildings a strangely stark sound considering the limits of a man lungs and the vastness of the square i've found him, sitting without a roof directly in the rain delivering a sad athmosphere to the dark and fall-struck town i imagine how fitting this would be for one of the people around me having a bad day around the corner the alleyway is screaming at me in static feedback the woeful sound of the harmonica distorts at this distance i feel like i am waking from a dream as i stare into that mirror-world which contains cars headlights and lives in a wet street, trapped forever to reflect back on itself until it fades into a world so small i am unable to observe it for a moment i feel the world going monochrome as i imagine myself as a detective in a noir movie who just hit a dead end in his case i throw an imaginary cigar to the floor i don't smoke 19.11.2024