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



Understanding a Farewell to Angelina...

It was the difference between actuality and sound that made the drive complete.

It was the difference between night and early morning when the sky is clear and crisp and souls on the highway are few yet there just the same.

It was the difference between all the days prior to this day and this morning… including actions I’ve owned and know to be mistakes now understood, clear and manageable.

It was the difference between acting in a daily production of fiction, supporting someone else’s ideals and fulfilling another’s dreams, and living a life for the benefit of my friends and pets and family.

It was the difference between unuttered concept and taking into consideration always the final line: “...the sky is erupting and I must go where it’s quiet.”

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