Duncan Catellier
Bio
Queer artist and writer. Sharing my visions and passions.
Stories (2/0)
The Heat
The waves keep rolling in, higher and higher, inch by inch, each passing day. Long gone are the white sandy beaches. Their shorelines have crept and morphed into an erosion of the city. The sunbathers have since receded back into the shade indoors or, if brave enough, under the canopies of balconies, all of them on the edges of their seats. From out there, toward the horizon, a gull might have seen such a magnificent sight if there were any left, any wings yet scorched out of the air. The sight: a hundred or more reflections of longing eyes guarded by mirrored shades in the windows of the high-rises, all of them glaring at the sky. They wait and they watch as the moon pushes close against the sun’s gruesome gaze upon the Earth. A darkness that they haven’t seen during the Hot Hours, that hasn’t eclipsed them in over a hundred years approaches with an audible anticipation brewing in the audience.
By Duncan Catellier3 years ago in Fiction