Entry tags:
sunday six
(because I am not, in fact, done with where the firelight fades yet)
Rena Rouge is missing something. She must be. Some puzzle piece that will make the rest fit into place, some angle to view the problem that will turn all these distorted blotches of color into a coherent picture—she never personally saw this art installation, Alya's family wasn't living in Paris then, but Alix went on an anamorphic street art kick recently and proceeded to talk Alya's ear off. François Abélanet, a ridiculous quantity of sand, hay, and greenery, and several days' work from dozens of people. From most angles, Alix said (waving a photo on her phone), this art installation—Rena can't remember its title—looked like someone'd made some weird little hills by City Hall. From one particular angle, the photos show, the whole thing snapped into focus: a green globe, marked with latitude and longitude lines in white.
She just has to find the right angle, that's all. This will all make sense when Rena knows the right angle.