Rockets Red Glare is a fragment by Jack Rusher, published here Wednesday, January 02, 2008. It is part of Stories.
A page from Ezekiel’s diary.
This piece was jointly inspired by a short piece at Distorte called Apples are the Only Fruit and the remarkable photography of Yves Marchand and Romain Meffre.
Come Sunday, we all stand on the roof to listen to the preacher tell us how it happened, singing and shouting:
“Bats wings flap, bible black / locusts brought the bombs / Night fallen, day broken / All the righteous gone.”
United Artists Theatre, Detroit. Yves Marchand and Romain Meffre.
It’s a long walk up from the 14th floor, past the highslums. Preacher says the poor live at the top of the building ‘cause they’re closest to God, but the rich sure do have a shorter walk for water.
United Artists Theatre, Detroit. Yves Marchand and Romain Meffre.
Daddy told me that, before things changed, there used to be a box in the trash chute could carry ten men to the 54th floor in a few heartbeats. I never know if he’s funnin’ me when he says that stuff.
United Artists Theatre, Detroit. Yves Marchand and Romain Meffre.
After church we climb back down, change into our everyday clothes, and head over to the Park to hunt. Sunday dinner’s never the same without a few squirrel for the stew. Mama used to make a fine Brunswick, but since she’s gone we make do with whatever we can manage.