Halfway through my run tonight, I noticed the loudest sound was the ubquitous rock creek just off to my left, followed closely by the sound of a singular set of feet falling to the ground, which were occasionally amplified by impending leaves haphazardly placed by the midly chilling temperatures that have recently arrived in the mid-atlantic. It seemed as if darkness was all that existed, except for the minimal bit of moonlight that provided me with some sense of purposeless direction. Magically, with every step, I learned that there was a tangible reality that existed beyond the pure blackness; and only in my mind was there proof of humanity within the night just behind me. The surrealism endeded aburptly as the sounds of a siren and city buses pierced the temporary serenity that the run had provided. This ...was rock creek at night.
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3 comments:
Nice post. I love it. An urban Jack Frost...
allen, you need to sell the volkswaggon and buy a beat up cadilac and drive across the country. Take a year and discover what you need to. Go to the west and live in the desert and run with the wolves, etc. you are only a young pup once.
Max, your "live life to the fullest" comments are the best. We should put together an anthology called "The Wisdom of Max."
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