Post #5180

EAVESDROPPING The banal, midnight architecture of this high-rise building suddenly enlivened by the inspired sounds of crashing saucers followed by the raised, accusative tone of a man in rage, matched sharply by a feminine voice, quivering & high-pitched, in turn, the machine gun of their mouths firing everywhere and nowhere, invisible blood splattered across the living room walls; after about ten minutes, a low hush descends upon the floor, and one hears only the occasional screech of an elevator ferrying the late-night home comers up and down the apartment, like a weaving loom shuttle, even as the wounded couple curl up to their separate beds, tossing and turning uneasily, each unsure, whether to regard all of this as a proof of love or its absence. #review