Shoots

Sunrise over a quiet motel parking lot in the Nevada desert, you tie the shoe laces before your brain begins working and make your way to the back of the sleeping town. Start running at the edge of the trailer park with only mountains ahead. A little rabbit outruns you in an instant, the altitude beats its lack of oxygen into your lungs but the valley ahead carries you, the regular beat of your shoes against the dirt  road. He sends a picture of the city, and your heart swells in longing. It is a precious gift to have something to look forward to. 

By the time it is warm outside, we make ourselves at home in an old saloon that smells of cigarette ash in ancient carpet, that smells of slots played before noon and a world without windows, without time. I sink into a red leather armchair and let the words wash over me. They tell me their stories without prompt, build inside my chest and swirl around my tongue, I walked across America to bring the dark word and the only Word I had was wow.