But the Virtual Bridge Sri plans to build could reconnect the lost hopes of a dying civilization. CONNECT by Kenneth Burstall By any reasonable measure we are dead. Unity — slow, cold and broken — is leaving me behind. It’s a slowly boiling mass of speckled gray now. I’m walking away from it, building, understanding, memorizing as I go. And to do these things, to tie them together, I use my memories. Of being alive, of dying, of being dead. ~~~ The centre of the quadrangle was forbidden territory for displaced persons. Sometimes, though, the machine gun crew, drunk on loneliness or alcohol, would let some children in for a while. We would run and scream, ecstatic and terrified by the alien view the soldiers had of our people. A full 360 degrees of crowds on hard plastic seats and primitive bathrooms half-way down each thirty meter side. We would play king-of-the-castle on the chunks of limestone there, a child on a rock pulled down and replaced by his or her peers. One strange night the drunken soldiers let us into the central area.
What do You think about Extinct Doesn't Mean Forever?
