Dusty Pockets

A small scribed piece of glass with words of the common tongue inscribed upon it.

Ancient-Babylonian-Tablet.jpgNot the murdering, stealing, scavenging or even the looming fear of the Screechers are the worst parts of living in Hou’Caw I do not think. For me, the thing that keeps me from sleeping in the day, is the space. Its the knowledge that the world is so big and I’m stuck inside this glass city. It is said there are hundreds of other cities in the world and yet I have never seen past the dunes outside Hou’s walls. In my dreams I have walked out over those dunes and have found a lush vibrant world full of peaceful people who offer up all their kindness and invite me into their homes which never need tune-locks because there is wealth everywhere, and everyone shares it. These thoughts betray me and cause me pain, yet I need them. If I submit to the pressure of this city, then I am a slave in spirit as in body. My hope is that this writing will find you as one once found me. Although you don’t know me, you do. You are me and I’m you. We’ve never met but believe me when I say that I love you. You’re not alone. This glass bottle we are both slaves within, cannot hold us. THE TIDE IS RISING.



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