➕ lordess of the turkeys ➕ (at Sprout Creek Farm)
I was trying to do something daytime that afternoon. A thing that someone in salmon-colored shorts would do. Maybe it’d involve some prosecco if they were feeling naughty. Definitely some boursin cheese. Anyway, I was at the park. In the part with no benches and plenty of grass. The field or whatever. I was overdressed and under-caffeinated. Trying to enjoy the humid tranquility but desperately needing a distraction. To see a squirrel steal a slice of pizza. A kid cry. My phone is boring. I feel boring.
This thing came across the sky. At first I thought it was black smog, then a swarm of locusts. Then I was like duh, cicadas. But these shapes were too calculated. They elegantly formed in the crisp blue sky in the shape of an oval. It looked choreographed. My blood cooled.
I had always prepared myself for impending doom by coming to terms with death. On every flight I take, somewhere between the reading of SkyMall and switching to Airport Mode, I tell myself “It is likely that I will die. And I am OK with this.” But I wasn’t preparing for death this afternoon. This was different. This was worse.
You know, for a second I thought it’d make a great Instagram but struggled with the right caption. Hashtag goodbye? Is that too obvious? Would everyone else be too dead to see it?
The black mass above us swirled around, funneled to the ground and then built up. It was forming a building. The architecture was pleasant. Black and sleek like a beetle. I had seen something similar in the glossy Hong Kong pamphlets littered all over Chinatown. Then, a tinny, stinging noise filled the opaque summer air and the humidity turned off like a switch. Bright lights illuminated the sides of the building and a child started laughing. People were staring at it with dazzling eyes. They were enjoying this. Life was ready to be a whole lot different.
roof (at st. james church)
no skyline ☁🌀 #creepy #manhattan (at Williamsburg Bridge)