I miss you all - happy nevertheless that you’re not here, in the smog.
A strange urban feel these past few days. Lots of security checks, roadblocks, traffic rerouted, clogged streets on my way to work.
Outdoor markets have disappeared, and so have the beggars, migrant workers, street vendors. They have been replaced by thousands of men and women in various security uniforms. And by millions of flowerpots.
I miss your voices.
NASA scientists said today, following rumors about Phoenix Lander (on a mission to investigate the habitability of Mars), that indeed it had found evidence of water, but that no trace of organic molecules had been discovered on the red planet. Fantasies about Martian-life received a major blow.
It is your voices that I miss.
Theories about alien microbes can wait. Derision is patient.
It’s your voices I would have liked to hear today. Voices growing on splendid comets traveling between worlds.
It’s getting late. I’ll now return to the flowerpots.
They should still be there, cordoning the avenues all the way to my place. Stagnant petals. Polite. A bit blurred by the hot haze. Not too organic-looking. Extreme life forms for extreme conditions. So thinks your laolao, the city’s new self-appointed thermal analyzer, studying our ability - us, the millions of microorganisms - to survive surreal times and an intriguing terrain.
See you soon.
Laolao
A strange urban feel these past few days. Lots of security checks, roadblocks, traffic rerouted, clogged streets on my way to work.
Outdoor markets have disappeared, and so have the beggars, migrant workers, street vendors. They have been replaced by thousands of men and women in various security uniforms. And by millions of flowerpots.
I miss your voices.
NASA scientists said today, following rumors about Phoenix Lander (on a mission to investigate the habitability of Mars), that indeed it had found evidence of water, but that no trace of organic molecules had been discovered on the red planet. Fantasies about Martian-life received a major blow.
It is your voices that I miss.
Theories about alien microbes can wait. Derision is patient.
It’s your voices I would have liked to hear today. Voices growing on splendid comets traveling between worlds.
It’s getting late. I’ll now return to the flowerpots.
They should still be there, cordoning the avenues all the way to my place. Stagnant petals. Polite. A bit blurred by the hot haze. Not too organic-looking. Extreme life forms for extreme conditions. So thinks your laolao, the city’s new self-appointed thermal analyzer, studying our ability - us, the millions of microorganisms - to survive surreal times and an intriguing terrain.
See you soon.
Laolao
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