THE HIDDEN TRACK

The following passages are dedicated to Leopold, to the vernacular, to certain evil women (you know who you are), to certain wonderful people(they know who they are), to soft afternoons and quiet Sunday evenings, to Fall and seeing your breath for the first time since Spring, and to Isabelle Ya Feng ... a soul slipped by like two ships passing in the still, moonlit sea.
-- Abraham Ahmed, the Surfing Beatnik



Efforts and Directions...

It was a lost cause said I at the constant changes that confronted us at the intersection of multiple lights of green.

A siren screamed past and I placed one foot down, rooted against the wind and leaned-in deep at it thrusting.

Upon lifting I straightened, brushed the chaff from my jacket and trousers and raised my chin to the setting sun stabbing the hillside to my front.

Public notoriety or impenetrable seclusion?

Stand or Flee?
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