I look up into the vast bright sweep of the Milky Way in the moonless sky and think sadly of all the love songs, all the treacly poetry, all the sappy rhymes that are now obsolete.
The stars really are stunning tonight.
Thanks entirely to the astonishing hubris of mankind.
Robert Carlberg writes when he’s not busy not writing.
At daybreak, skyscrapers are silhouetted against the horizon’s halo of orange and paradise pink. Light pierces shreds of grey stratus cloud, falling on shattered glass, twisted steel and pavements perforated by roots. Shadows retreat, exposing crumbling brickwork and cars colonized by rust, lichen and moss. Yet another dawn goes unwitnessed.
Andy Hedgecock is a freelance writer, researcher and editor from Nottinghamshire, UK. In 2014, after 30 years of writing nonfiction, he was enticed into storytelling by inspirational publisher Ra Page (Comma Press). When not being lured into unsettling new activities, Andy wanders post-industrial landscapes with Drake, his Staffordshire Bull Terrier.