The TAO
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My mind played in vignettes with no music or sounds of sweet words, just those haunting large brown eyes above freckled cheeks so soft and smooth. It seemed an assault to me to abrade her skin with my beard and calloused hands.
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He always tried to lead our little threesome in the jungle and Ann allowed him every indulgence except sex, which Pete could not understand. She nurtured her errant knight with food, kindness, and gentle but bloody effective persuasion.
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The day I looked up from my labor, my fashionable loin cloth no longer new or foreign to me, I arrived at a divergence in my life’s journey.
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After a little more than a week with the tribe, Pete and I began to relax around each other. It seemed his attitude was more on how to swallow his pride and entertain a barbarian. I understood and made no demands on him.
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I lay in the cool night on a woven straw mat, unable to sleep. Insomnia was not unusual in such circumstances. The beer and strange foods that required mental concentration to fool the palate made my head and my stomach unsettled.
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Soon the welcoming committee showed up with their stoic scowls and parang to decide if I was profitable or a scallywag to be run off or worse, boiled into pig feed.
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He was a half bubble out of level and probably off his meds again. I didn’t plan on shooting him. I liked him. I was just going to roll with it. Two soldiers with too much brain pain and nightmares to not be disposable drove down the road quoting lines from Hitch Hikers Guide to…
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Under the shaded canopy, I skipped along on the twisted roots of towering trees. Giant roots, like arthritic fingers, intertwined to hold the forest to the steep bank of boulders, clay, and eons of leaf litter decomposed into a rich and nourishing soil.
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A solid gold lace cover of light bathed the countryside as the sun rose behind me. In the valley, fog flowed like a river from the highlands toward the southern tail of the Great Dragon.
Hyperion Sky 