The Traveler

The morning dew permeates to where the level of discomfort is enough to bring him out of sleep. Behind shuttered eyes, like he has done a thousand times before, reaches for Izzo before the thought of her not being there has his eyelids rolling up in taking in the predawn.

There is not a sound to speak of, just a gentle silence that has him slipping back to his subconscious reliving the moment of his first encounter being a purple bumblebee and a monarch butterfly sharing a flower that still has him wondering what is being said when what centers, is the roadside inn filled with sad looking people hugging kids that roll aside just so the woman can sit across from him. Two days, Traveler. Attached to all of this is Lilly playing nursemaid to a dog that has him deciding that he should get his day started by rekindling last night’s fire.

After shaving enough wood curls, registering, is that it is far too early for a morning hunt that has attention on delicate flames doing all they can in having a go at the offerings placed just so.