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



The 3rd Level Lindy...

...ya of course it was just a feeling!
But as I stood there and watched her dance in the parking garage I knew there was something deeper to the maddest affront.

Likely though was presence of falsehood but why not just live in the benign for but a few moments of this subtle existence. We all need this!

I tilted my head and laughed at one of the low-hanging fire suppression pipes in the garage structure. I bent forward and grasped both my knees with both my hands and laughed again, joyfully chuckling at the floor. I could barley find my breath. I brought myself back upright and laughed again shaking uncontrollably at the sight of my vision.

God! To write but what I saw would stop war and hatred.

To laugh brings an affirmation of a certain tomorrow.
To smile, sincerely, for just a moment ensures my place in existence for all time.

...I know it does.

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