Letňany

Letňany

[letnany]

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[letnany]

The holes

a red and white city bus drives southbound along tupolevova. the driver must be used to the abyss that is just off the side of the road, as he doesn't feel inclined to be as far as possible from it, physically as well as mentally. the holes don't unnerve him as much as they used to anymore. only the late-night bus drivers know why they're there. they've heard the rumors, but they know the truth. some have had the misfortune of getting too close to the holes after zoning out and sniping their creators with their red and white vehicles. burying your head in the cold, damp soil is a fruitless endeavor, a fact that most people tend to disregard and try anyway for all the good it'll do them. the lucky ones meet the lights in a blaze of red, white and more red. the unlucky ones stay behind in the cold darkness. do you see them? why don't you sit near the windows anymore?

[letnany]

They are all broken.

the fields hum at night. you might notice it at first, but you grow used to it eventually. the sound takes over your mind and makes you think bad thoughts. you stop counting the steps you take towards despair, preferring the bliss of not knowing when your end finally comes and believe me, it's just over the horizon. don't look at the fields, it won't help you one bit.

[letnany]

The Lines

they took over my mind like a parasite. i feel compelled to touch them, to feel them. oh the mythical lines. enter me, skewer me, tear me apart. místecká 453, i am ready.