So sad how things die and go unnoticed, those projects that seemed so promising at first are now nothing more than words forgotten and spread onto black pages.

It was all too perfect, everything. Grey was the sky, near black, and that awkward color of yellow-green before the storm comes. The perfection of rain falling down in clear sheets across the asphalt, leading little me to run a block through the slick curtains.

Together on cold, new cement, white lights hover overhead like UFO's...