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



Warning:

Speaking closely in quiet, subtle dialogue shall result in lips impacting into one another with the almighty force of a pusteblume clock settling softly onto the waiting grass.

The world will altogether cease it revolutions and one’s peripheral shall blur in Monet-like fashion.

Seek help or fall victim to the mire of the night's devises.
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