random #2

It actually feels so calm here. Like when the carnival is shutdown and I’m the only one walking around. All the lights are asleep and the rides meditate. It’s like nothing I do here matters, except to myself. Will someone break this crystal reverie? Probably not, because I think you feel it, too.

Where do we go from here? Walk back to our cars and drive twisting hills until stars swirl overhead; sleep overtaken. Wait for the carnival to die, and in its place, a meadow overgrown. Maybe those rusted machines will find peace in the new world. Then we can garland flowers; attention overthrown. And in the air a new spirit rises, in the ground, a hedgehog sighs. But I can only turn the pages forward, so until then, goodnight.