Dear ,

It was a hot night, a wet night. The damp of fog. A dark night. The smell of grass and dust. A feeling a little like petrol. Volatile ( Read more... )

Dear All,
After awhile I moved from my broken house, war-bombed to a new one. I had a little money and was in a state to acquire new things and so I was in the market for a new place. They were making some new rooms fashioned in abandoned factories and other buildings and so I thought, why not ( Read more... )

Dear All,

As I knew we would, we outgrew our small corner of the destroyed city and left our house. The house we had constructed out of the wreckage of a burnt ruin. The small life, the world, the piece of beauty and warmth. One day we both hugged (the way we always do) and went out for the day. And never returned ( Read more... )

Dear All,

The city is a wasteland. Blackened corpses, husks of destroyed houses, charred roads, and the twisted remains of trees. Broken crazy paving, ruined towers that arch their broken arms towards the sky as if begging for mercy. A slate-grey sky, today, that only sometimes opens up to admit shafts of sunlight to warm the earth. It is almost ( Read more... )