On a sunny January afternoon, I met with my ex-wife, a real piece of work. To be precise, she’s a refurbished fungal-systematist. That means she knows how various species of giant mushrooms relate to each other. Originally from Pennsylvania, she specializes in poisonous cross-pollination between fungi and recently fell down an inclined plane.
The argument was ending and only the wind kept it alive. A ghostly shape moved near me and made a strange sound. She leaned closer and softly swayed from side to side. I was in a trance, and felt that our lives were precious.
running the whole length of the horizon...