Homeless in Paris Homeless in Paris | Page 255

B"H Chapter: Atom Split Tripping through a drea m state, I arrived to the summit o f modern civilization and hid out in a mountain cleft. The heights were a faraway suburban blur, a distortion so hazy that gave a n impression of being an industrial facility strutting open land , maybe a factory for recycling garbage or an atomic energy plant. What appeared to be residential structures and a few tenants were imaginable only to the extent that the dwellers moving about had been pacing their steps on a roadway. Here and the n, amongst the dark shadows, like twinkle of a star, housing built obviously for the elite. The elitist investors had come to build expensive looking homes, outside appearance and the architectural beauty pleasing to the eye. Cultivated gardens, garages that open with auto matic gadgets, a dog in the yard and bird housed in a cage. As I flew by, I held in my arms the entirety of my worldly possessions, a mattress in the extended grip of my hand ; while my arms clutched the sack to my body, and satchels that contained the objects of worth I held unto until this conjecture in my life. There and now, again the dilapidated housing units , yet nary a person in sight. Collapsible closest poles used a t apparel exhibitions, on which hang garments were spread through the sky, stacks of shelves lined against the wall in whic h were folded fashionable pants, like blue jeans, row upon row clean and neat never more . As I glided by, I bumped into a sports jacket hanging by the end of the collapsible clothes poles, and the owner shouted at me. As I turned to beg his forgiveness , I odiously, but unintentionally bumped into something that served to disprove a reason for the anger of the previously enraged merchant o f nothing, since there was no comp laint about this incident. Thereafter I passed collections of strings of pearls; of costume or real value, packed in formation thickened by the mere multitude of their quantity. I guided my magic mattress into a n alleyway amongst the rows of e mpty trashcans and the darkene d void of garages and yards that lay seemingly dormant. From a nearby courtyard, I perceived the utterances of voices ; and as I approach, I hear a discussion pertaining to a political intrigue, so I tried to listen in. 255