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and with that he grabbed his branch with its little kerchief tied to the end and sauntered his worn out boots through the gravel and the dust and headed off down the old dirt road behind his parents cottage, a copy of leaves of grass tucked away in his satchel.
when he awoke he was covered in sawdust and snow and the top button of his plaid coat was undone. his cellphone was ringing and it was the utilities company.
"i thought i was allowed to be here. i'm not sure why you are so upset with me."
the other end of the line crackled and hissed and then dissapeared.
the tick of his wrist watch came back to life, as did the mild pulsing pain in his side and the thought that in two more days he had a car payment to make.
in came swelling strings and pictures of the pacific northwest.
howling wind and truncated cbc radio weather reports.
his father telling hunting stories in the shack.
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