Church Services | Callahan
Added September 14, 2011
In the middle of the northwest quadrant of the I-95/93 cloverleaf, there lies a small pile of broken concrete. There is a cracked Big Gulp cup and somehow, a dirty and empty tennis-ball canister lying within the rubble. The wind constantly moves the two cylinders back and forth between the crevice they have found themselves in. They make little noise, but it is audible to the withered and winless lotto tickets that flutter past. We are the only ones who know this.
-- Jean Arp