The taste and hint of the arising situation beckoned at the
horizon like a low cloud. A wounded Titan of attitude, with the fortitude of a
newborn prince. I smacked my hands together, knowing the day should bring new possibilities, but a
storm brewed at the fraying edge, a coffee that had stood too long.
Tornadoes held domain over the open highway before my time.
Dusty radials leaned against the splintered wall of an empty stable. Wind
howled through the knotholes with a wolf’s cry as winter crept in.
The terrible ring of a plastic, beige motel room phone. My
face was a landslide of emotions as words stung like killer bees. A swarm of
change awaited beyond the peeling blue-gray door.
A shower.
Dressed in an empty parking lot, I offered my body to the
rain. Lightning concluded its argument. I had shit to do.
