Sunday, May 22, 2011

My writing muscle is sore tonight

The crooked teeth of Manhattan rise up into a passing storm. Sun shines into my train while shading the island. Had these been silver grains instead of pixels, coated glass instead of plastic, I would be tempted to call this one of my better pictures. Unfortunately, I am a snob, and this picture of a metropolis I am wholly ambivalent towards (except for a few museums), will be relegated to the internet - where a total of twelve people may ever see it.

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