Up That Hill

He writes again, soft with humility, to marvel at how your minds think alike, how the air is thick with magic. You think only how you are back to your usual ways, how kittens play with dying mice, how badgers will bite down until they hear the bones crack. The sun set in beautiful stillness tonight, twilight foliage thick with fireflies; they fired off their neon greens in choreographed chaos and I had to stop to look at them. I couldn’t help but smile. The four-leaf clovers have all been mowed into oblivion, but you’re not so sure about luck anyway.

Life continues to be overwhelming and confusing at every turn. You put crackers in your boot. Think perhaps it’ll sound enough like crunching bones and the badger can give you
a moment’s reprieve.