He pointed out a few things here and there, white light shining off his bald head, but mostly, he said nothing, and mostly, I pretended to be interested in walls while watching him move, look, change, turn.
She looked desperate to me sometimes, like she almost wanted to throw herself in that machine, to end whatever strange thing was happening to her.
I can feel us flying up roads where even Taco Bell signs were plated in gold, and I can also recall strange leaves – – gold, copper and gray, like jewelry mixed with ash — littering the ground everywhere.
It smells like fall again. Like cool, spicy, bittersweet decay.