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



Karen...

Her taste for this unusual had left me with nothing to say- nothing, until she squinted at the horizon in a questioning pause...Ker, please I said Have I not been the living mad gentleman that you have wished me to be? Have I not taken you into my soul and expelled all ideology that I knew to be of my own?

She didn't answer. She tended to ere on the side of leading me onto answers unescorted. I understood. She would never be mine, neither in spirit nor thought.
Emily, Emily, Emily
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