“S.O.F.T.”

Today I read:

Where we live, the skies are heavy with sleep. Sometimes high-flying jets come down encrusted with it, like bees dusted with pollen. Fielded by Midas and thrown home, how beautiful these shining apparitions are. They roll unsteadily to a stop, transformed into fairy-tale coaches. A crack opens, a patch of golden coral swings aside, stairs descend, and then the baffled pilot emerges like a new Aphrodite from a peculiar Edenic shell.

— Shelley Jackson, “Sleep

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2 Comments

Filed under Journal

2 responses to ““S.O.F.T.”

  1. Lee

    Ooooooooh that is wonderful.

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