Man Sitting 2
Propped up by shadow, a source of primary colour, wearing shades to
adjust the brightness of the whole scene. Earth met sky and water and
collaborated on an idea which he shared in. It was Sunday and, having
left the God Complex behind with the rest of the big smoke, he had
come here to rest and survey the scene. He'd dreamt this place into
being a while back and had forgotten about it. he coughed out the last
vestiges of the car fumes his hours were wreathed in. Pulled the deep
stabbing splinters of the subway from his mind where they lay coiled
like vipers. He began to purge himself. The air tasted great out here.
The sweet aroma of the grass. The sharp cut glass scent of fresh water
(really fresh, not that recycled city imitation). He let the air blow
through his head and scatter the gridlocked thoughts which clogged
there. Let the cool water sooth his eyes and heal the sting neon had
inflicted. Let the ground's solidity root him to something he could
never kneel down and touch in a place covered by concrete. A hammer to
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