Back to GroundIt turns out that in the back of my closet, deep in the back of it, there is open air, clean skies, and winter. A proper winter, mind, deeply cold and dry, the air crackling and clear to let in the starlight. It is very unlike the urban environment of my closet: there is a lovely quiet to it all, and the soft voices of the trees carry.
Next time, I will not lick the lamp-post.
All content under copyright by the author. Dancing is permitted. The strange deltic glyphs in the sand under tidal flow are a pleasure to watch in their deepening. Offer not valid in Kansas. We put it down and then we lost it. It all happens in the corner of the eye. Commentary accepted at pen@goob.com, although the traps are agressive and the pointy bits simply drip with dark liquour. We have a dog, but we do not own it. Thank you.