constantly sitting at the edge of prophecy.

no one is home in the cities of the future.

"It’s as if you and your mate began coitus as yourselves and finished as identical twins."

... infinitely various, seeming to obey no law save that of beauty, was used sometimes for small monuments and temples, such as the Tower of the Winds, ...

thousands of people work millions of hours producing nothing.

Suburban Minotaur, 2

See part 1

“You’re not the only one who’s seen the minotaur now,” he whispered.

I glanced at Patti from the corner of my eye as Todd leaned in closer. She inched back slightly.

“I’ve seen him too,” he said even lower, the sweat trickling down his temple.

“Me three!” said Carol, walking up behind him. “He works with us.”

“He works with you? How is that possible?” I said.

“Remember your kid talking saying he had a horn reduction for the office? It’s true,” he said.

“It’s true,” Carol nodded.

I cleared my throat. “So I take it you two—?”

“Are having an affair,” said Carol.

“—work together?”

“Not so fucking loud, Carol! Jesus, my wife is right over there,” Todd hissed, grabbing her arm.

“Oh yeah, that too. We work together too. We do,” she said, pulling her arm free. "At Intertrend, a marketing company in the city. With the minotaur. I’m a copywriter and Todd here is an accountant.”

“And we’re fucking,” Todd leaned in and whispered, nodding. Patti forced a smile.

and your bones feel like mallets
pounding out a rhythm on your skin
stretched tight over the head of a drum
and you press your hand to the glass
and the blood fills your lungs
and your heart pumps the light
that spills out through your eyes
and you see the buildings swing by in sync
blurred on the edges, swaying, dancing in time
to the rhythm of your life

populism is popular with the ruling class.

there is fire at the bottom of the ocean.

who gets rich when nothing changes?