10 June 2006


An Excerpt From a Work That Was Lost When the Author’s House Caught Fire

You chipped at the rock, removing it one jagged piece at a time. Later you dug channels in the dirt to bury the pieces. You tripped over a berm, twisting your foot. You walked with a limp, and the world changed. Now it was skewed far more than you were comfortable with. You tilted your head to compensate. The roar of the stars changed pitch. The darkness covered everything and you stumbled again, then waited. Stood with your own breath. The moon behind you, tapping your shoulder. Hello. You again? Why aren’t you asleep? Why can’t you find your rest?


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