30 November 2005
Grit
After her leg healed Dandelion Streetscape decided to take it out for a test walk. She found a sturdy patch of ground and began pacing. Dandelion walked for a long time. Soon she wore a deep path into the Earth. The ground beneath her feet softened and churned. Dandelion slipped smoothly under the surface and entered a world of suffocating beauty. She held her breath and kept going. The soil was warm as a campfire. Dandelion liked the underground. She lived there for several years. When she returned to the surface, she felt dizzy. She missed the comforts of dirt.
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I love this.
And like much of your universally insightful/empathic writing, it hits me hard and leaves me sitting there feeling transparent and challenged and witnessed all at once going 'but how did you KNOW?' for a minute before remembering that this is the disease of writers and I have it too and that's the point: it ain't about me, or you, it's about us.
And the robots.
And like much of your universally insightful/empathic writing, it hits me hard and leaves me sitting there feeling transparent and challenged and witnessed all at once going 'but how did you KNOW?' for a minute before remembering that this is the disease of writers and I have it too and that's the point: it ain't about me, or you, it's about us.
And the robots.
Yeah, the robots. I think they know a lot more than we do. Kind of miss them. Maybe they'll come back. If they do, you'll know about it.
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