They only know me as Curt and I keep to myself.
I never wanted to end up living with bullfrogs and mosquitoes as neighbors, but the law cannot touch me close to the swamp and when they come they will find my cabin deserted.
The law cannot follow where my scow takes me beyond the bayou, and likely they only want me for moonshining.
I manage… but sometimes the great bones of my life feel so heavy and I would like them to fear me, like the coeds of Princeton did.
I hope that one of those long-legged rangers will come to visit all by herself. I have watched them and crave to undress them. I can almost feel their soft hair wrapped around my hands.
But meanwhile, I cope, caressing the shrine with keepsakes from my accomplishments.
They will know me as Curt.
Today it’s prosery at dVerse. hosted by Linda. As usual we should weave a line from a poem into a very short story of a maximum 144 words.
Today we should use the following line taken from Spring Azures from the book Wild Geese by Mary Oliver ‘Sometimes the great bones of my life feel so heavy,’
I am sorry that I couldn’t stay away from being gruesome, but this is where my muse lead me tonight.
January 18, 2020