Atalan

The little girl will grow black shrivelled wings. The business man with the briefcase will open his briefcase and twelve tigers will bound forwards as he smiles a bit too widely with teeth a little too pointy. Music will play, ancient music from several decades ago. A song that everyone is sure they’ve heard that brings them back to cassettes and ugly triangles. Twinkling triangles, like the twinkling stars in the skies, like the twinkling lights over the cities. Lights, lights that we admire and take photos of and only the best will throw themselves into the rest of it, discovering the friendly lanterns that eat the sky. And they will fall and be happy. The good will sail in the sea of lights.