The Pale Banner
The wind does not ask permission before it enters the clearing, and neither do you, though you have spent the last forty years learning the polite geometry of doors and hallways, of keeping your hands visible and your voice steady when the fluorescent lights of the office hum their low, electric hymn. You are standing now in the high grass of the ridge, the place where the paved roads end and...
0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews