tang of petroleum


The air is sharp with the tang of petroleum and machine fluids.

Tendrils of perfume pin prick the air. You follow that scent to the end of a street where the bodies are piled chest high.

“So here’s my advice to anyone, in any field: when you feel you can’t make work, make work from work that is already made. Don’t duck and cover. Cover without ducking. Do it proudly. It keeps you active.”

— Questlove / Creative Quest

About istsfor manity

i'm a truncated word-person looking for an assemblage of extracted teeth in a tent full of mosquitoes (and currently writing a novel without writing a novel word) and pulling nothing but the difficult out of the top hat while the bunny munches grass in the hallway. you might say: i’m thee asynchronous voice over in search of a film....
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