I walk along the dusty street, surrounded by slowly-moving giants. The noise is deafening.
I have half an hour of time before my next class. Fascinated, I approach the metal fence and stare.
Behind the fence lies a gaping wound in the ground. You can clearly see that the City was built on chalk. The earth is white, the dust is white, the air is white. Not like the City Back Home, where the clay bleeds orange tones in the street.
My shoes slowly sink in the white half-dried mud. I do not notice.
In front of me, the creature slowly and gracefully unfolds its neck, then bows, as if after a performance, to finish on the ground. It whips it head, and straightens again. A shower of chalk plates tinkle to the ground. The creature repeats this gesture for many minutes more. Then, as if bored, it turns around shakily and begins sweeping its long neck from side to side, scraping the sides of the pit with its raised head. It looks like a diplodocus.
The bulldozer operator looks up and notices me. He waves, then goes back to work.
In the background, several smaller engines move around in a slow ballet, like a herd of iguanodons.
Time runs out, I go to class.
When I walk out, night has fallen. In the distance, I see the towering shapes of two cranes, like tall brachiosaurs, or better yet, the mysterious Amphicoelius fragillimus. They loom above the City.
In the streets, the last University carts zip around like small othnielia hurrying to finish their day's business.
It is late, I walk home.
The dinosaurs disappear, replaced by construction sites.
But is it over?
Under the Pigeon Tree, the flock of dinosaur descendants settle in for the night.
And in the Turtle Pond, the real reptiles blow bubbles and sink sleepily to the bottom.
You never forget your dreams.
I have half an hour of time before my next class. Fascinated, I approach the metal fence and stare.
Behind the fence lies a gaping wound in the ground. You can clearly see that the City was built on chalk. The earth is white, the dust is white, the air is white. Not like the City Back Home, where the clay bleeds orange tones in the street.
My shoes slowly sink in the white half-dried mud. I do not notice.
In front of me, the creature slowly and gracefully unfolds its neck, then bows, as if after a performance, to finish on the ground. It whips it head, and straightens again. A shower of chalk plates tinkle to the ground. The creature repeats this gesture for many minutes more. Then, as if bored, it turns around shakily and begins sweeping its long neck from side to side, scraping the sides of the pit with its raised head. It looks like a diplodocus.
The bulldozer operator looks up and notices me. He waves, then goes back to work.
In the background, several smaller engines move around in a slow ballet, like a herd of iguanodons.
Time runs out, I go to class.
When I walk out, night has fallen. In the distance, I see the towering shapes of two cranes, like tall brachiosaurs, or better yet, the mysterious Amphicoelius fragillimus. They loom above the City.
In the streets, the last University carts zip around like small othnielia hurrying to finish their day's business.
It is late, I walk home.
The dinosaurs disappear, replaced by construction sites.
But is it over?
Under the Pigeon Tree, the flock of dinosaur descendants settle in for the night.
And in the Turtle Pond, the real reptiles blow bubbles and sink sleepily to the bottom.
You never forget your dreams.
1 comment:
I don't think I will ever tire of your descriptive writing. Especially as, unusually for me, I could envisage to what you were referring before you mentioned them by name.
Post a Comment