Vernon is left in a crust of ice and melting snow. La Sol came out in the morning. A slow glow that began to peel the layers from cold away. In these infected ears, it’s hard to hear the cracking as it breaks and slants off roofs and angles all over this wasted space. My eye catches a shadow and I think it’s you behind me.
Turns out its just the ghosts of a life that could have been. Ah, but we don’t believe so we fend them off alright. Until it’s night and we dream of the same busty blond. In one, they run away and fight. In the other, it’s steamy.
We left that night to sleep in a car we despise in these down bags we had to try out.
We were worried about being haunted, followed, fought or kissed in hallways of our own demise. Corridors of our own fears. Pitfalls of our own let downs.
Two large suitcases, a duffel bag, two messengers, and a solar backpack hardly hold the high hopes and heavy disappointments we encountered on the side of the sun’s coming. Soon, we run from that too – but in a new way.
Or, an old way we are now unafraid of.
We faced the dark and found the stars.
Not such a bad deal after all.
The deer will be happy we didn’t put up fences.
No-one will eat those apples, pears, plums, grapes, rotting mass in the compost pile – anyway. You are free to enjoy the things someone else did that we don’t need.
The story is not over. It will travel across so much land we’ll have no shape of it in our minds. By the end, we might have dreams of it.
We cannot say, yet.
Will we return? Will we stay?
Will we find a better way?
All in good time.
Time to say Oyasuminasai to this path. Set this lantern down and dust out the ashes of our burned up star. It did the trick. We have ways to avoid the desperation that will, inevitably, sink in again. We have a memory now, stark and bright, of the lives we cannot live.
That will help in the ones we have to face.
A dead jay in the freezer all this winter will be left in the melting snow.
It will become a part of what it should have been months ago.
And us, too.