for the first time ever; it was quiet. in the fields and fishponds there was no one. the cars stopped and the planes vanished. the brief instance of a daydream extended out to multiple months of hazy solitude.
images of staring out my tiny bedroom window, purple skies with dozens of sheep grazing softy. empty fishing spots and the slow emergence of summer after a 4000 year winter.
walking home from work in the dark with the familiar smell of burger grease emanating from your uniform. you stared at the raw meat for too long today and thought about cows in a field. you are almost halfway home and Gnaw has started play.
you quit your job.
