On the edge of Summer's start the foliage is swollen with life and the dusty road calls to me, broken down pot-hole filled swampy back roads, littered with abandoned houses...you always call to me like you're calling me home. Magnetically drawn to these places I get such a deep comforting feeling being in them. Having grown up next to abandoned empty homes back on a dirt road wooded swamp dream, these places feel like a memory they are twisted and weird and have dark corners filled with magic and memory ghosts. A red fox appeared before me looked me in the eyes then turned around and trotted down this road like some kind of spirit guide I felt a tugging in my heart and was compelled to follow him but was running out of time and drove back to the roads of the living but a piece of my heart always lives on those dusty roads. I'll be back.
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