INTERIORSI go to Google line up cross hairs move camera up stairs find just where streets cross but can’t see inside her purse or pierce her mind to find the purpose of that gun. THE FOGFog floods
rubs rust with greys. Grass sways in front of slightly seen silhouettes: trees sketched onto Silver. As it lifts the fog gives back colors, the whole scene, and we come to know who we are and where we stand.
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