Friday, August 19, 2011


Eighteen years have gone by and I can still bring back every detail of that day in the meadow. Washed clean of summer's dust by days of gentle rain, the mountains wore a deep, brilliant green. The October breeze set white fronds of head-tall grasses swaying. One long streak of cloud hung posted across a dome of frozen blue. It almost hurt to look at that far-off sky. A puff of wind swept across the meadow and through her hair before it slipping into the woods to rustle branches and send back snatches of distant barking- a hazy sound that seemed to reach us from the doorway to another world. We heard no other sounds. We met no other people. We saw only two bright read birds leap startled from the center of the meadow and dart into the woods. As we ambled along Naoko spoke to me of wells. 


I really love this. A lot. I'm excited to continue to read it. 

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