Saturday, May 8

This is the beginning of my floating cafe story. It's just an introduction, and not a very good one, and it takes a while to get into, but it's way too long to post all at once.

This is the story about the world of flowers crackling with electricity and candle flame in the wind. In the day, the sky looks like peach skin and smells like satsuma. When night falls, everything turns to blue velvet and silk, and the swooping strobe lights flash fake lightning. The buildings are palaces, gingerbread houses, or both; their surfaces reflect every other beautiful thing. It is a city of long cobble-stone roads; all of them eventually end, meeting the sea. On it, floats a cafe filled with stars from old movies. Here is the story, beginning in that cafe:
I am sitting in aLittle Venician Parisian Wonderland. Parts of the walls are windows letting us see the waves lap against the side of the building. Some days I name the waves. The water is clear like crystal cutlery and necklaces turned to liquid, and the ceiling is also glassy, some of it stained glass with the smeary traces of clouds appearing through. It is my favorite cafe.

morgiepoo thinks really deep thoughts @ 12:51 AM

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

<< Home

want more? of course you do!