Morning Stroll

Raindrops like jewels fall from a cold angry sky. Wild primroses brighten the soaked woodland path.

An intercity train thunders by like some crazed dystopian machine. Steam and sparks pouring from its pantograph, screaming I’m alive.

By the side of the woodland path ashes are scattered in a long winding drift back to through time. Ashes of dog or man who knows, I wonder.

The noise of the train disturbs my thoughts. I watch it carrying itself and passengers forward.

Each second, they advance has gone forever. Each second, I walk along this track beside these unknown ashes, I feel myself being gripped and drawn by the past.

Something has got to give, some day. Maybe today’s the day.


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