an old writer and his words

  • EVENTIDE

    The sky is the leaden gray that denies the sun and threatens the moon’s arrival. It presses down on the roofs of the tallest buildings, wraps them in a depression those on the street below feel without need of looking up. This is a teasing sky, a drop here, there, until we know we are…

    Lou Faber

  • OSAKA MORNING

    The rain trickles slowly down the deep green and gray roof tiles, drips slowly from the tangle of wires and antennae, onto the narrow streets and alleys where bicycles lean against doorways, barely avoided by cars passing quickly. The sky is the gray of countless ships in the nearby harbor, a monochromatic world broken only…

    Lou Faber