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August 09, 2008  Author: Anthony Pacheco Category: The Craft   0 Comments


We have been here before.
The end of a gravel road which itself was
The end of a lonely paved road long forgotten
Most likely only maintained because it was on a map
Connected to interesting things only at each end

“How did he get this place?” I ask.
It was wonderful nothing for miles and miles
“Saving the life of that lumber company boss,” she said.
“On a mountain, I think. I do not know. It was a boy thing.”

It was my favorite place
Hills, woods, deer, rocks… the mountains
Always the mountains
The house was ratty but I loved it
As much as one could love a thing

“It needs a lot of work,” I said. It did not even have electricity
“That’s the fun part, do you think?”
“Do I still have to work in my math books?”
“Everyday, my Sweet. Everyday.”
I frown. She laughs.

A thought.
“Boys climb mountains?” I ask.
“Men climb mountains.
“It is the boy inside that makes them want to do so,” she says.
“I don’t understand.”
She gives me what I have been thinking of as The Eye.
“You will someday. All too soon… all too soon.”

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