TWENTY-EIGHT

or.

a cabin outside of glenwood springs colorado. surrounded by the mountains in a little valley. 1989. a valley of tall grass. or short trees. cool summer's night. sitting in a flimsy plastic garden chair. the good son playing over and over again as i took it all in. missing her, a state and a timezone away. most likely repeating the ship and weeping songs. play. rewind. play.rewind.play. i don't think i had my nice aiwa portable cassette player yet but maybe i did. not sure.

g-d. all those portable cassette players i owned. auto reverse. little red battery lights. super bass. anti rolling mechanism. high bias. radio presets. digital. plastic. metal. i always wanted one of those yellow sport walkmans but there was no reason to. i'm not even a big fan of yellow. i'm sure somebody had one. somebody i wanted to be.

the night was quiet. the stars were out. the air was clean.

and i was removed. distant. somewhere else. in pain. in longing.in sadness.

but now: paradise.


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