on curiosity for the masterpiece
in the burnt out features of their flesh, this impassive corps of attendants; like their sisters, brothers, mothers, fathers and anyone they know- like a contagious decease; resembles some strange company of higher beings walking in their judgment ruled by an obscured system on endemic greed of a corrupted species, an impression that is reinforced by the curiously undefined contours of dark creeping into sourceless light- where all their fantasy is sealed.
the staff, remarkably restrained, has a way of entertaining their weary paces on the nicely polished traditional marble paved path- neverending line of pointless- headless passers – merely sliding through.
… if by any miracle you are served a bottle of water or a pair of shoes- that distinction might well feel like the supreme victory of life!
/no Awards or Glittery icons, please./