So it’s gone. The one place I could walk the dog in the city without a leash. The one place I could stand in relative silence and look at the stars or the moon, the flashing lights on the jets. The one place where the rabbits might run past me as I moved through the caliche flats. Gone. Covered up with tiny homes, tiny lawns, tiny fences and tiny for-sale signs. Soon to be bought by tiny people for tiny sums. I feel small now too. Compressed. Depressed. The dog is bigger, though.
Chrysalis, a growing collection of very short fiction.
That Night Filled Mountain
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Unless noted, all pics credited to Skitz O'Fuel.