The horribly disfigured, eyeless face staring directly at me from a filthy, shadeless second floor window wasn’t necessarily there.
Costumes and candy fueled caterwauling continued on the crowded concrete steps, while that gruesome enigmatic image appeared to peer at nobody else.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
They hadn’t actually seen each other because the whimsy of wind and distance was playing cat and mouse with the favorable airflow of a fortuitous path crossing.
While minding the meandering momentums of the day, a mutual, steadfast spirit stayed true and led them to this marvelous moment of a simple handshake.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
A street beacon amid the twiggy branches ignites into incandescence when the dim doorway to dusk becomes an evening exhibition of developing darkness.
Illumination from the lamppost rides piggyback on commuting characters whose sidewalk shadows slide out from underneath their steady stride and elongate into the night.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
They once came on frozen rails without pretense to share the jolly with a sustained station bustling with local services for a truly languishing community…
Yesterday, a destitute curmudgeon dropped his found piece of bread and knelt at the very same train car that took him in so many years ago.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
She stretched outwardly above the mirror to get a better view of the prismatic vivid visage that was now ablaze upon her colorful autumnal torso.
She admired the growth of her glorious gown which gleamed with snazzy seasonal sequins, and found herself captivated by the flaring foliage of her rhythmic reflection.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
Visitors from a vast vacationland follow their own hysteria to a perceived presence which is hauntingly housed throughout the shadowy streets of a storied city.
Wearing creative Halloween costumes countless hordes are drawn into an anticipation abyss, searching for lurking manifesting macabre and some semblance of sensory validation.
(Photo: Edward Roads -The Witch House in Salem).
Written by Edward Roads
The balding old man with an untidy fuzzy gray beard, wore muck stained blue jean overalls and scuffed laceless black work boots that snapped back to his heels when he walked.
Each autumn morning he pushed a quickly assembled display cart perfectly into place, which warmly welcomed an unwavering flow of wide-eyed fresh faces and loyal returning customers to his beloved farm stand.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
They once stood grand green and lush within their nurtured station, waggishly waving along with the oft warm breezes of summer as an unnoticing city occasionally strolled by.
It was now approaching sleepy season, so the caboodle of drowsy ferns with yellowing appetites huddled together preparing for the inevitable interlude which cued that same old winter song.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
I was walking a long narrow road intent on an afternoon of apple picking, when my soul became enveloped by a kaleidoscopic drapery of stirring seasonal illumination.
Millions of rustling leaves, singed with autumnal pageantry, had fallen neatly into a makeshift curb which lined my route through a dynamically dappled flume filled with a cornucopia of colorful wonderment.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
Snugly bundled up under a stainless star filled sky, they slowly walked side by side consumed in conversation that allowed them to subtly taste the sweetness of each others clearly visible breath.
They didn’t remember where they came from or even where they were going, but when a moment of enchantment presented itself he removed his glove and gently held her hand, which not only warmed his heart, but also hers.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
As the seasons change, a slowly simmering lifelessness continues to encroach upon a single flourishing area whose very resilient occupants seemingly refuse to surrender.
The nourished souls of summers’ buoyancy have to this point persevered, but surely there will be an inevitable submission to the stampede of pitiless elemental ferocities as the seasons change.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
The formal yellow and black tie event was hosted by the royalty of the workers union to address a swarm of concerns associated with questionable colony conditions and monotonous job descriptions.
A collection of bumbling scaramouch characters, feeling the assembly was droning on and accomplishing nothing, imbibed at the open nectar bar only to later embarrass themselves by passing out on a distant patio.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
On the old family backyard bench a very patient little red haired girl, wearing a lovely new white dress delicately trimmed in blue, sat perfectly straight with hands folded neatly in her lap.
A beaming smile instantly appeared on that round freckled face when the door she had been staring at finally opened revealing her proud mother, carrying her own mother’s beloved white hat complete with a matching blue ribbon.
Written by Edward Roads
Swirling contrails of orange and black were the wake of our flowing flight that flapped playfully above a lush green grass line as well as frolicking with row after row of prospering corn that stood straight like soldiers at attention.
When our delightful day of whimsical air stream serenading was over, my unpredictable pilot gently descended us with a fluttering fairytale softness upon a magnificent yellow landing pad.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
Lost souls from a yesterday not so long ago walk along a path chosen for them by a brick-and-mortar generation who attempted to understand the direction one might eventually take.
The horizontal wall was carefully constructed as a passage of protection covering the frail, earthly soft textures that were once exposed to coarse elements of an environment continuously moving on the surface.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
Mytwosentences 