Love in a Rusty Old Truck

Return of Dragons

“His heart danced upon her movements like a cork upon a tide. He heard what her eyes said to him from beneath their cowl and knew that in some dim past, whether in life or revery, he had heard their tale before.” ― James Joyce, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man

Old Truck
A tree lay across what once was an old logging road now turned to an eroded pathway to the past. The bark had long fallen away leaving the bleached wood to become a mossy bridge for chipmunks to cross. I locked my truck, grabbed my rucksack, and headed up the barely discernable road to see if she was still there at the homestead where I left her many years ago.

View original post 840 more words

Please leave a comment what you have to say is important.

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s