Saturday, May 03, 2008


At seventy miles an hour every vision is a snapshot: two deer, heads down; a tree, a truck tire leaning against it, a groundhog that had climbed most of the way up the tire; grey sky like a shawl.

1 comment:

ed said...

angie's sense of the dramatic matched his perfectly.

they had become fond of each other,
but love had nothing to do with their marriage.

dhe was the fire. he was the fuse.