
Swooping past I stared in amazement, craning my neck. If only we needed a place for butterflies, for unanswerable spectacle, for zeppelins. I could see a hole in one of the panes, a cheated reflection that somehow made the fragile skin even more beautiful. These enigmatic lost structures populate our city like bubbles on glass.
[email this story] Posted by Jenny Francis on 05/23 at 07:18 AM