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Electric
Eye Outside the office of Harry B. Klein, optometrist hangs an electric eye that creates a green neon heaven on the empty sidewalk below. It’s been years since you could look through the iron bars on the window and see a patient underneath the hard florescent light inside. Outside, in that distorted world of green, the noises of the sewer can be clearly heard through the storm drain as the sludge flows choppily through its tunnel. Every few days, a man walks into the glow, stopping as if transfixed by the altered underneath the sign and looks it straight in the eye with a scowl, as if he doesn’t appreciate being watched, but every time, he shrugs and moves quickly on. |
All original material © 2003 Erika Salomon.
