ran 4.8 miles
Jonas was in a new place. He stepped into a tub of hot running water. A particular and rare kind of peace had fallen over him. It was one of the seldom moments when the entire universe stood still in all of its clarity---but only long enough to catch a glimpse of its simple geometry for a mere perplexing second. Jonas saw, somehow, men stripped and women bare with shame and confusion for so many questions they had so few answers for; children branded, tagged like so many heads of cattle in a herd, branded and tagged like commercial images in young impressionable minds content to follow those in front of them, behind them, and on their sides regardless of where it leads them; so many distractions to occupy and obstruct the precious little we would all like to know but don’t know how to ask for; to clothe, layer after layer, so many fabrics and materials of thin and delicate armor to protect what is so quietly inside of us all and to shield what is so piercingly intent to get inside.
Less than a breath later and Jonas returned back to the clumsy, lethargic reality that consumed his and everyone else’s lives.
Jonas thought about the poem he had read earlier. It was page thirty-four of Anna’s untitled book. He now understood that there was more to all of this than he had previously understood. The circumstances of Jonas acquiring that book were unquestionable. The intentions were still unknown but his puppet strings were being pulled and twitching with curiosity.
Jonas sat in the hot water sweating in comfort. He thought about his mother. She used to always tell him, “If it sounds too good to be true than it probably is.” He wondered if something was too bad to be real if it couldn’t be. It did not go both ways.
1,157.1 miles to go.
Chapter 14
Jonas was in a new place. He stepped into a tub of hot running water. A particular and rare kind of peace had fallen over him. It was one of the seldom moments when the entire universe stood still in all of its clarity---but only long enough to catch a glimpse of its simple geometry for a mere perplexing second. Jonas saw, somehow, men stripped and women bare with shame and confusion for so many questions they had so few answers for; children branded, tagged like so many heads of cattle in a herd, branded and tagged like commercial images in young impressionable minds content to follow those in front of them, behind them, and on their sides regardless of where it leads them; so many distractions to occupy and obstruct the precious little we would all like to know but don’t know how to ask for; to clothe, layer after layer, so many fabrics and materials of thin and delicate armor to protect what is so quietly inside of us all and to shield what is so piercingly intent to get inside.
Less than a breath later and Jonas returned back to the clumsy, lethargic reality that consumed his and everyone else’s lives.
Jonas thought about the poem he had read earlier. It was page thirty-four of Anna’s untitled book. He now understood that there was more to all of this than he had previously understood. The circumstances of Jonas acquiring that book were unquestionable. The intentions were still unknown but his puppet strings were being pulled and twitching with curiosity.
What people need now is another Henry Thoreau
to aspire towards on rainy days.
What we need now is a sunny gloom to rekindle
the hopes of our warm shadow’s rays.
People need to peel their hands from the mouths
of their souls to allow for noise and the power to not do what they’re told.
What we need now is quietude and screaming
at the inversely appropriate times that they would commonly behold.
to aspire towards on rainy days.
What we need now is a sunny gloom to rekindle
the hopes of our warm shadow’s rays.
People need to peel their hands from the mouths
of their souls to allow for noise and the power to not do what they’re told.
What we need now is quietude and screaming
at the inversely appropriate times that they would commonly behold.
Jonas sat in the hot water sweating in comfort. He thought about his mother. She used to always tell him, “If it sounds too good to be true than it probably is.” He wondered if something was too bad to be real if it couldn’t be. It did not go both ways.
1,157.1 miles to go.
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