the still passenger sits on a train, on the window seat, in the middle of a long car. these are the days when there were drive-in movie theaters dotted across the landscape. at dusk, the images on the screen appear off in the distance. the images presented here are those which are glimpsed, the ones that still her thoughts. the train rolls along. the landscape seems to move, but doesn't. the still passenger sits alone with her snapshots in her mind. she's filling in the spaces.
April 13, 2013
were they two strangers in tin-type found in opposite corners of the attic?
or brother and sister? or lovers till the end of time brought together by the absence of the space between them?
