wadi saal

Before him burn the great unwinking lights / The hectic stars of city nights, / Red as hell's pit, green as a mermaid's hair. / A queer half-acrid smell is in the air. / Behind him on the shelves in ordered rows / With strange, abbreviated names / Dwell half the facts of life. That young man knows, / Bottled and boxed and powdered here, / Dumb tragedies, deceptions, secret shames, / And comedy and fear. /
Eunice Tietjens, The Drug Clerk

My foot slipped alarmingly deep into this cross between mud and water, sending me squelching desperately out of a landscape of emptiness

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