I’m wading in knee high dark water pulling the boat after me when the factory sings out again across the strait. A flute-like mechanical sound, vaguely melodic, but not quite. Like someone had sampled a gale whistling in the structures of an abandoned factory, and played an atonal melody with it while throwing in a bit of vox humana. I stop to listen.

July 11, 2015
by Janos
0 comments