Green wall fecundity
Breathe you into my nostrils
Writhing mass of sand grain-covered worms
Along such paths men haunt
Traces, mud swirls in puddles
Thick description- abstraction
Not here the babbling of neuron excretion
In my right vest pocket I could feel a kleenex and an old receipt. In my left was a rubberband and a pocket knife. My hands rested comfortably there on old familiar objects and the day was cool. The air smelled fresh after a night of rain. Three weeks had passed since Lynn left. In that time I had to leave my apartment because I was short on rent, but I was still working down at the grocery store. When she left I lost half the rent income. I ended up pitching a tent just off the bike trail and slept there. It wasn't so bad. Oh and I also found out that Lynn was pregnant, but not, as I first thought, with my baby (I'm still close with one of her friends who works at the store with me). Turns out Lynn was a couple months pregnant when she broke up with me. I guess they'd been sleeping together for a while before that. I wasn't sure if I should feel relieved or not the baby wasn't mine. The ache I felt in my chest when I thought about it could mean almost anything.
The trail stretched off into the distance ahead of me. My tent was another half-kilometer away. At least there I could get away from all the craziness that surrounded me lately. As I came closer I noticed two things at once. First, I began to make out some of my things laying on the path. Second, I heard the zipper of my tent open or close, I wasn't sure which. Immediately adrenaline started pumping through my arteries. Fight or flight. What the hell: fight.
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