The door can't be locked, apart from the passenger door which, in turn, can't be unlocked. There's a hole in the trunk covered by a wooden plank. Exhaust pipe is absent, so the whole of Juneau can hear and smell us approaching. And the door looks as if somebody has burned alive in that car.
Other than that, the Raptor works like a charm. Registered and all legal.
Midterms are approaching this week, so we've mostly been working hectically and not much blogworthy is happening. However, we did go to a shrine on Friday. Don't get me wrong, the place was amazingly beautiful. But we were also certain we'd die the following night. Something in that place was off. Eerie.
It started with a monument for abortion victims, hidden in the woods.
Of course, in our minds, it calculated as a pile of fetuses buried under a tree. The pathway ended by a rocky plateau on the ocean. Everything was dead. Like, completely dead and silent. Imagine standing on the water and not hearing a single splash or hiss.
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| 'The rocks look like quadrilateral triangles.' - Mollie |
The clouds were extremely low and pouring out of the mountains not unlike toxic smoke. Something about this place was post-apocalyptic.
Candles were burning inside the church. The door, however, was locked. A raven glides directly above our heads and settles on the very top of a tall spruce. The columbarium? So many October deaths. No thank you. The place was mesmerizing and creepy at the same time. Perfect horror film aesthetic.
Next week, it is probably going to be a rant. Or a supermarket comparison. Something food-related. Now, I gotta finish memoirs and tritinas and ghazals and some garbage readings.
Exciting
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