Ash swirls in the air and the landscape is gray rubble that falls away into the sea. They kept saying global warming wan’t going to be the end of us, that it was just threats from the fanatics, that we didn’t have to make changes. But every year there were more earthquakes and flood and hurricanes and fires- every element expressing its imbalance. Every year the temperatures soared and the ice melted and no one did anything. My pink house – no longer mine – stands on the edge of nowhere like a rose in a Salvador Dali surrealist desert landscape . . . ― Francesca Lia Block, Love in the Time of Global Warming

Ash swirls in the air and the landscape is gray rubble that falls away into the sea. They kept saying global warming wan’t going to be the end of us, that it was just threats from the fanatics, that we didn’t have to make changes. But every year there were more earthquakes and flood and hurricanes and fires- every element expressing its imbalance. Every year the temperatures soared and the ice melted and no one did anything. My pink house – no longer mine – stands on the edge of nowhere like a rose in a Salvador Dali surrealist desert landscape . . .
― Francesca Lia Block,

Love in the Time of Global Warming

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