Flash Friday 4-4-14 put, wolf, women in Flash Friday
- April 4, 2014, 2:19 p.m.
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- Public
Trapped a wild hare earlier, before the storm came. Not every cloud has a silver lining, just rain clouds. The big fluffy white ones that look like bunnies the lining is white. The depot was littered with a few seasons of dry leaves, abandoned luggage picked clean, empty tin cans rusted from age, licked clean. I holed up there to ride the storm out. The ticket booth was the only place blind enough to build a fire, but it was too close in, anything big enough to heat would have choked me out. I cooked the hare, slow, and with the door closed.
Found a horse blanket in the stables. It’s been over a century since horses brought mail, people, hides and such to the train stations. The scavengers had all but leaved the stables alone. There were a few scorched remnants of fires, blackened hay and pallet strips. I think the bones of them what set them aren’t too far from here. Since the reckoning the sense of smell is king again; if you can’t smell prey you are prey.
A few weeks ago I ran across this guy out on the road. We laid our weapons down. The obvious ones. It’s symbolic, no one lays all their weapons down, nobody upright. He wanted to trade dog pelts for … whatever I’d give him. I told I didn’t have anything.
“Wolf, this is wolf, great lakes gray wolf.”
Too hilly, I thought, air is too thin. The sane ones don’t talk about old borderlines. Right, like I’d know.
“Wolves and bitches, man, always wanna rip your heart out, right?”
Let me call you a cab, I thought. No, wolves go for the throat, I thought. Show me a woman skin and I will put you down, I thought.
“Yep, wolves and women.”
There’s the good kind of crazy and the bad kind of crazy, it’s cold comfort if you’re the one that has it. I listened and sniffed for two days, serpentining on and off trail, kicking up needles and dripping on cracked asphalt.
I think about Darwin and I think about Jesus a lot. Not together, not opposed. The unsaid piece of survival of the fittest, the most obvious part now; when shit goes crazy the fittest is the craziest. I guess the jesus piece isn’t really Jesus so much as Mad John. There wasn’t really any day of reckoning, no real judgment, no seven signs, but, most importantly; the world didn’t end. It’s still here. I read this story once; The Bible Repairman. I sure could use one of them.
Deleted user ⋅ April 08, 2014
Good one !