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 Trial of Alcibiades...

The car ride was almost motionless save for the wheels cast in pointed direction to the eminent outcome facing the mighty.
The passenger looked down at his shoes and vocalized to the driver his mistakes, owning his every infraction without ever releasing a whisper.
He brought his eyes to the midday sun seen through the rolled up window and knew that it, if none other, was an assured piece of his tomorrow's tomorrow.

He closed his eyes -- and steadied his aim upon it.
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