| Wednesday, Aug 23rd, 2006 Sky Noir | Permalink |
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 I boiled under the scorched sky. The blazing ball of white sun bleached the rocks and walls ghost white, death white. I waited, in a dirty cafe, and sweated while I drank too much coffee and smoked too many smokes. The coffee was as black as the few harsh shadows that managed to survive the onslaught of sun. When I wasn't smoking, sending thick blue fumes upward in complex spirals, I amused myself pouring the white cream into coffee and watching it swirl... The clock ticked loudly. It was late when she arrived. She was tall with chalk white skin and ebon hair. Her eyes shot right through me. That gaze punched a hole right though my heart, I heard the bones crunch, and out the other side. I knew she was trouble. She sat down, crossing long legs, and lit one up herself. I motioned for the waitress who came over reluctantly. Hell, what else did she have to do in this dive but kill time. Hell, isn't that life, just killing time while we boil away in the hot sun till all we are is bleched bones on a forgotten highway. Posted by Martin | Comment (10) Category: View all Photographs, Black & White, Skies | |
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