Country Mouse, City Mouse
Even so, I survived—more than can be said for the city mice in our apartment
Even so, I survived—more than can be said for the city mice in our apartment
The Tower of Babel is one of our oldest dystopias.
I no longer know anyone.
Cities veer in the public imagination from weird and enchanted to crime-ridden and drug-addled.
I won’t miss the commutes.
My Midwestern self would need enough help to assimilate into the real NYC, let alone one where the Woman in White might attack.
As the ghostly songstress resumes her song, you begin to hear that same voice that has been singing as part of the background noise
The Moscow transit system looks more like a jellyfish than Ursa Major looks like a bear.
She shakes her head once, before looking up back at me with holy certainty. “You have no idea who you are,” she declares.
I’m not the only one desperate to find the lost episode.