I quickly became part of the furniture, one of Alex’s least interesting fotos. Which for that set was like saying I wanted to molest animals. What do you do? they asked and I told them I was trying to be a journalist. A genius, he said, and that made it a little better. “We drank some more spike, and some of his too-cool-for-school Dome friends came over, slim, tall, and wealthy, every one doing double takes when they saw the size of me and heard my Dark accent, but Alex introduced me as his Brown classmate. You live here? I said, and he shrugged lazily: Until Papi decides to sell the building.” The joint was a meta-glass palace that overlooked the Drowned Sectors, full of his photographs and all the bric-a-brac he had collected for props, with an outdoor deck as large as an aircraft carrier. “Took me over to the rooftop apartment his dad had given him in the rebuilt Zona Colonial. “On top of that we were both art types, which in our world of hyper-capitalism was like having a serious mental disorder.” And since it was just poor Haitian types getting fucked up-no real margin in that.” “A huge rah-rah, but when the experts determined that it wasn’t communicable in the standard ways, and that normal immune systems appeared to be at no kind of risk, the renminbi and the attention and the savvy went elsewhere. You literally had to be falling to pieces for it to grab you.” This one didn’t cause too much panic because it seemed to hit only the sickest of the sick, viktims who had nine kinds of ill already in them. All sorts of bizarre outbreaks already in play: diseases no one had names for, zoonotics by the pound. in our region alone, the planet cooking like a chimi and down to its last five trees-something berserk was bound to happen. Shit, a hundred straight days over 105 degrees F. A black mold-fungus-blast that came on like a splotch and then gradually started taking you over, tunnelling right through you-though as it turned out it wasn’t a mold-fungus-blast at all. Didn’t rip through the pobla like the dengues or the poxes. “Within a month, a couple of thousand more infections were reported.
So, I hate it that this project didn’t make it as a book, but maybe its better as a short story. I know that this isn’t huge shocking news, but I’m a word junky. “They call those of us who made it through “time witnesses.” I can think of a couple of better terms.”
0 kommentar(er)
