Tuesday, November 18, 2008

this side from vilna

circa 1890?

On an old maroon table in my grandmother’s house sat an incandescent pink seashell. I would hold it to my ear and hear the far-away sounds of the ocean. In the foyer, the steady whir and flutter of the slats on off-white Venetian blinds made me sleepy... as chill winds passed through the most haunted and haunting of places: Brooklyn.

No comments: