Father’s day
He was fast asleep as I kissed him on his warm forehead, filled with faraway dreams in distant lands.
I grabbed the Smith & Wesson .357 Magnum and stepped out in the gray morning drizzle…
By mid morning the sun had come out in full glory, burning off the humid air in fields of rising mist across the grasslands and asphalt.
In the distance the perfume of a roasting hog, mixed with that of moist clay and pungent decaying weeds, wafted through the branches in rivulet wisps of blue-gray smoke, rendering the palate wholly of earth’s final texture.
The clouds with their cascades of towering cumulus plume-castles were barely discernible through the haze, drifting slowly, looking down on our futile mortal struggle.
He loaded the revolver, his eyes glinting darkly with anticipation.
I fired.
The report of exploding gunpowder echoed sharply through the damp air, ricocheting, cutting the haze.
We smiled. The line had been crossed…
Later, we chanced upon an enchanted stupa and watched iridescent turquoise dragonflies inscribe the air. We traced their diaphanous dissolving language while sitting zazen…
-Iliad Alexander Terra
