Six sentences for Sunday, September 29:
Our excitement about the bridge does not wane. We can talk of nothing else.
The water is clearer there, someone says, pale blue like bathwater, and the beds of the rivers are littered with transparent stones like glass. Do not drink from the rivers, or you will never want to leave. The buildings are all outsized, big and pale and very smooth, and they reflect the light like mirrors made of polished milk. There are fireworks every night and lithe creatures with blind-white eyes roam the pine forests, stalking prey by sound through the brush.