Reid@YWP

中午 At 12:00 pm you walk into the tea store that lies just above the edges of your consciousness, embalm your tongue with the scent of green tea and honey.

After they arrived at the train station in the middle of nowhere, getting off of the bus was an awful drag. It was sluggish, slow, and the fleeting flocks of people turned into deep, hurling crowds.

Take me to the Karakoram Road, I beg—

Where the mountains meet the rivers, 

Entwined with the pathways of cracked cement

Sam and Willa lay on their backs in the overgrown grass of his yard, her describing the shape of the clouds for him to paint as a picture in his head. 

The bus to the Bellingham Amtrak Train Station was long and grueling; nothing short of a suffocation chamber for its passengers that day. Crowded, overlapping voices.

It's late when I pull into this town. the square is lively as my car sputters stop feet away from vision.

its a party. the people of the town running around and around and around, with carrots potatoes tomatoes everything the town has