Icons and Philosopers
-The rain cascades against the window and I sit there with an unfocused attention. I hear the car doors slammed into the shiny plastic bodies, glistening in the garage light bouncing on drops of water falling on the new paint. The squeaking of the garage door as another octane fueled beast slides through the slicked streets, home. Two days ago, in a conversation, a chorus appeared. It stood out as if it meant something. And who is it? The rest of the song works well, but it’s that line that hooks you in. “Nail in my hand, from my creator, […]