There is that bitter winter taste
in every gust; rime on the grass
in the mornings.
11:04:26 PM permalink:  feedback: comments: 
It was dark. It was night. The warm day was gone. The evening air was cool, and there was a little bit of a breeze.
We were parked on a hill, just over the crest, on the far side from the city. As I looked over my shoulder, I saw something strange: a black sky filled with stars.
You have dark skies here, I said, half to Vicki, half to the others,
half to myself.
You can only see the night sky on the far side of a distant hill, I
lamented to myself, although as for that, I really have known this for quite some
And then I turned and opened the door of the car. And the three of us got in and drove home. Back into the white light of the soccer fields and freeways lined with Super-Target parking lots and 24-hour gas stations. Back into the perpetual glow of this city that doesn't like to think of itself that way, back into Austin.
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