Ruby, My Dear, change happens whether one wants it to or not. We fell asleep; the train track was a pillow; no train came; the steam whistle a minute away always. The ranger’s flashlight trolled the wooded trail. Dry grass and blue bonnets. A motorist on Skyline Drive knew he could get away with it. His engine burned off foreign smells at the entrance gate. Another motorist stood by the hood, mouth open. Oil smoke mixed into the Smokies. The Sun made it past low lying Easter egg clouds and onto the Christmas cactus. The cactus smiled near its destination…miles of chain link fence, domino lightning, and meadow moving on the outskirts of town. The weather could not make it any further. I’m not sure if it was day or night.
• FJORDNE: http://www.fjordne.com
• White Paddy Mountain: http://whitepaddymountain.tumblr.com
More about: FJORDNE
