LovetruckerCanyons of the Past
November 18th 2008 10:10
My better half still lay in the lumpy bed, while this puppet of bone and breath scuttled along the mountain path shadowing creatures of a desperate imagination, knowing neither himself nor the conglomerate rock called Earth. Torrents of time had eroded these hills, leaving only the exposed emotions of a wild planet and its population of random atoms.
When I felt the charade could go no further, a corner twisted and the mystery deepened. A farmhouse of no fixed address squatted on a hillock like a lonely child, surrounded by scowling boulders. Experience had taught me nothing, save that the present slips away into canyons of the past and I hovered in a limbo of choice. In the rarefied atmosphere of possibility, my feeble will choked and grasped at the nearest thing to love.
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