100 Word Fiction
We come out at night. Mostly because people stare too much during the day. We frighten them, but we’re usually more scared than they are. The night cloaks us, protects us. People fear what they don’t understand. They think we’re the result of some evil scientific experiment for all I know. Or care. But we’re just like them, only with a genetic mutation that the doctors are trying to understand. It might help if the facility where we’re housed didn’t look like it was melting from the inside out. The architect’s sick joke. Like the one God played on us.
See more architectural abstract compositions in my Charlotte Douglas International Airport Architectural Abstracts gallery.
An old photo due to quarantine of my favourite building in Glasgow.
As often happens, what’s round back is more interesting than in front.
Scanned from a gelatin silver print, from Ilford FP4+ processed in MPK developer, Pentax 67 with 90mm lens.
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