Telling: Streams & Logs

days

awfully glad

I stepped out into the shadowless evening. The heat almost opaque, not wanting to make room for me and my little breathings. The green things lean and decline. The peppers redden diligently. The birds have hunkered down. There is no depth to up and no reason to go there. The biting things don't rise any higher than my knees, but they are awfully glad to see me.