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Saturday, September 20, 2014

Missing Persons. By John von Daler

                         Sometimes he would awaken from a dream and he would flow back into life like a murky little tributary spilling dredged muck into the clear main stream.

Thursday, September 18, 2014

Bottled in. By John von Daler

               The building could have been a fortress, but instead its solidity had been chosen to house all kinds of culture, learning and pomp.

Tuesday, September 16, 2014

Caesura. By John von Daler


                         Once upon a time there was a proud little man. He owned a little store for rests: you know, the kind musicians use when there are no more notes in their music and they have to sit quietly with their instruments in their laps.

Saturday, September 13, 2014

Coins at the Counter. By John von Daler

               When the dignified old woman entered the supermarket there almost always was whispering.
                She was once a great beauty! they said. They say she slept with the Czar!

Thursday, September 11, 2014

A Closing Door. By John von Daler

                           I am not good at noticing the closing of a door, the silent wave of a hand, or any quiet disappearances that transpire unwarned. So I did not notice their unheralded passing.

Tuesday, September 9, 2014

Allé. By John von Daler

                          The usual metaphors will never do: the Allé is no artery; it has no connection to any heart.

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Made it from Tulsa, to Norwalk, to Princeton, to Copenhagen. Still on the move.

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Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (Harry Potter, #4)