Do it first, fast. In Patagonia. "Time passes" but what as we are not still. He said, moving quickly, say that again. The rocky trail on which burro tracks were evident. It was a mystery then, a good one.
Below the lily pad an entirely new shadow. He felt oppressed in the city, all those lives around him. Consider Europe, parts of Asia. When names change - in the dingle - it hurts the most. In the bracken with fishing pole. "I don't want to." "Who asked what you wanted?"
But it ended, or stopped. It went on in other ways. You know what I'm talking about even if I won't say it. Years later he wouldn't meet my eyes. The past, what a blot, what a cancer. Going forward, tears.
On the Chesterfield road, turtles braving traffic.
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