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



Seperated by Commitment Alone...

"You been waitin' long?"

"Oh, 'bout an hour I guess."

"Where ya'll off to?"

"Dallas / Fort Worth then we're connecting to New Orleans. You?"

"Phoenix... then off to Denver. I'm going up for a work thing - likely a crap hotel with an ill-lit confrencing center, bad catering and long agenda full with small business nonesense."

"Oh, Im sure you'll have a good time."

"We'll see! ...what's New Orleans hold for you folks? Mardi Gras over aint it?"

"Ya - no. We're heading out to see my brother."

"Nice - been a while?"

"I'd say as much... several years."

"Boy, my brother and hate one another but cant be more than ten miles away for each other! What kept you away for so long?"

"Shoot. Work. Life. Kids. Other priorities."

"Bout time huh?"

"Bout time yeah."

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