never a frown with golden brown...

 
lola is black and white. she's the larger of my dogs. a mcnab. extremely possessive of me. in the evenings, after a certain hour, every time i open the door she thinks we are leaving. her bark is shrill. and she barks. repeatedly. gives me the face of love. i walked her earlier than usual this evening so i could go out again sans dog. i'm not sure why i decided to go solo on this second walk. i really like having lola loping at my feet. hmm.

the moon was setting. i had to turn down the alley. passed under the black walnut tree and mistook a low branch for a person. had a moment of "what the fuck do you want?" and then felt stupid. i don't normally address people i've just nearly run into with "wtf?" but considering the hour and proximity it seemed reasonable. the alley was the color of pitch. i felt the branch. not palpated but felt. like sound being muffled. and i behaved like lola and stiffened, fronted, took the offensive. and then realizing, pulled the l.e.d. from my pocket and shimmered it around. ersatz firefly. ice blue.

and now i'm home again. i'm thinking about this one person and how i wish there were two of him. i suppose two is not better than one. no. certainly not. certainly not. one is the better number. however heartbreaking.

anyway, listening to stranglers belt out golden brown. a jar of queen anne's lace on the table. plucked along the railroad tracks yesterday. i've never found one with the crimson fleck at the center. until yesterday. lovely. also along the tracks is the husk of the severed raccoon.  but that's another story, i suppose.