#14: Year of the Typewriter | December 21, 2017

Winter Solstice, the darkest day…


Went to try to get into the Chanterelle Forest. My heart was in my mouth as I came to the turn on the road. It is being logged. I stopped and talked to the road crew there. Showed them my typewriter. Said I just wanted to walk up to the forest and write. One of them asked if I was the Lorax’s secretary. Another said if I came any farther he’d call the cops. “Isn’t it public land” I asked. But there was no more discussion.


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Puddles on the side of the road. A bullseye of ice.