Restless

A Story by Wisconsin

Disjointed thoughts.

When I sit still for too long, I start to feel like the air in my lungs is half bad.

I can feel it in me. Filling me. There's no constriction in my airways. I know it's all in my head. But I feel that half the air doesn't exist. Half of it is bad.

The only air I can really breath is in the back of a moving truckbed.

Went to the river today. Half the trees were torn up. I don't know why. The place smelled familiar.

I rubbed dirt on the tree stumps. Instinct, reaction. Makes it look like an old cut. One of many useless tricks all about covering your tracks.

Tossing fresh dust over the tire prints when you turn into a deserted road, checking back to see if you're being followed.

Wolves aren't afraid of people. The DNR says wolves are afraid of people, but they're not. They're cautious. Curious.

Driving down the road. Wolves emerged from the woods. Ran with the truck. Circled it. Ran back into the woods. Curiosity.

The world is different from what people are told.

© 2008 Wisconsin

Author's Note

Product of restlessness.
Been sitting still for about ninety minutes today, just now.

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Reviews

windmill

This is strange.

I don't really know what's all up in that head of yours, or what's on this page in front of me... But I think it's meant to be a little mysterious anyway. The piece has this woodsmanly knowledge of how to cover your tracks. Other stuff you know, too--like the wolves... But you say it's useless. Why is it useless? If it's useless, why do you know it?
Why do we try to cover our tracks? What are we afraid of? But--if it's useless, meaning it won't do any god anyway, why do we try? ... the things we're hiding from probably know better...

What. Ever.

Run meself in circles. Woohoo.

Thanks fer sharing, my mysterious friend...

Whee~
Sascha