Wednesday, February 12, 2014

Tourists here.

I always wanted to see the entire world. To really see it, not just take a short tour down a designated tourist pathway surrounding or cutting through some magical landscape or formation. I want to walk around every tree, clockwise and counter-clockwise. I want to feel the swirling pull of every eddy in every stream's current with my hands. Then of course I will see the marvels, the grandness of the formations that man couldn't possibly drive the magic out of.

Then again...I think of the old West.

Pioneers way out of their depth in places far too magical, I see them in an oasis of firelight. Two of them, huddled around that most instinctual comfort in a strange and previously undiscovered place. I feel the fears of those men inventing hostility just beyond the imposing black edge of that orange-glowing haven. Then out of the magic of those unbroken lands, lands all too happy to oblige their fear, I see two Native American braves materialize out of the darkness and put an end to their lives, quickly as a candle is snuffed out.

Here's the safety of your fire, she says.

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