Snippet: Trails
I am alone but surrounded by the evidence that I could never be alone. Cars hum in the distance, a murmur beneath the cricket and bird songs. The path is worn and clear. Might as well be paved. Kayaks slice through the water of the river - crayon bright shapes between the pale silver trees. The illusion of nature is nearly complete. A squirrel bounds through the path to one side, carrying its prize: a french fry. There is no wild place left in which to be alone. It's litter and sound pollution. Proud symbols of man's triumph over the dark and dangerous wilderness. Bottle caps pressed into the earth, our fearless endeavors immortalized in a constant barrage of tiny reminders. I came here to put my feet where the city had not made its mark. I will have to go farther from life to feel alive. The phone in my pocket vibrates and sings of new activity on Twitter. Author's note: These snippets are unedited free-writing exercises that I use as a way to shift my brain into a creative state. I use Lynda Barry's What It Is YouTube timed exercises (usually 9 minutes worth of writing) for these. They are handwritten in a composition notebook, and then typed up here. As I transcribe them, I do tiny grammar and spelling checks, but the overall "clarity" (if you can call it that) of the exercise is left as-is.