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Monday, November 06, 2000


Sitting on a grassy hill a hike above our house in Kula, watching the sun settling slowly through the cloud soup, I hear the sound of a jet fighter approach and pass a few feet from my head, a medium sized bird with curved blades for wings hauling ass down the volcano and vanishing into the dusk. Another zips by, the sound of its flight modulated by each navigational adjustment. Blades of grass wiggling in the wind, I lock my eyes in the middle and widen my focus to watch the patterns of motion, like waves of a plasma storm betraying the footsteps of dancing creatures of air. I blur my focus, see only a blanket of green with electrified tendrils sweeping and twisting through it in all directions, an animated spectrograph who's lines tickle my face as they pass through me.

I wonder about my future.

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Simon Funk / simonfunk@gmail.com