This is a photo that always finds a way into my eye. It’s the old bank building in my hometown, with its oxidized roof attempting to bring the color of grass a little closer to the longing sun. It’s a beautiful building. Its rigid body stays perfectly still, save the arms of the clock which dance around one another, and the doors that swing here and there, playing diaphragm, taking in breaths of people.
The rock fountain that oozed out of the upper spire made symmetry its beauty.
The chamfered corners of the copper roof were carved with a butterknife. The head for an Irish hat was born.
The faces of time dials were gently pushed in, taking a shower in the oozing concrete.
The stone throughout plays Tetris, and has a perfect score, yet for some reason there’s a glitch in its game, leaving it unrewarded; intact.
It is a simple type of majestic.
The Glossy Mage 
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