by Dawn Raffel.
Everything living and dead, solid and conjured, fruitful and not, has been wired together within and without this spectacular city in a feat of automation. Socket and plug. Tunnel and lock. Wine-dark sea and crenellated tower. Spray, wave, salt, root. Sailor, baker, mother, lover. Resin and sparkle. The apple and the hand are inextricably connected, ripe with intention. Sentient creatures of every disposition may be summoned or created or unmade by the sound of a voice, by the blink of an eye, by the flip of a switch, by an indolent sneeze, by the tap of a richly bejeweled toe, by a fleeting desire. Pieces of the past, such as love affairs or floods or conversations may be simply reconstructed or exchanged. Wars may be waged in reverse, the future recomposed. The weather may be simulated. Bodies may decay and be replaced, in whole or in part, or reconceived or discarded: aqueous, avian, earthbound. Celestial. Rain will continue to fall on the penultimate city. Light will continue to runnel through the cracks of its engineered streets, the crumbled ruins of its walls. The sky and the sea, and even the stones are made to breathe.
Dawn Raffel is the author of six books, most recently Boundless as the Sky, from which this piece is excerpted. For more information, please see Dawnraffel.com.