The Distant World

Here's some awesome writing that I did one time after a trip to Tokyo. I was driving the van when I just was like "Aw screw this" and crawled into the back. Then I wrote this. Yay!

The Distant World

Tik-ritta-skit-tik. The skittery leaves scramble across the ground like frantic mice. Fog traps the land under a sleepy morning spell. It is a thick, smothering blanket.

The crisp cool scents of autumn and winter meet at this place. Spicy and pumpkiny is mingled with wet and earthy.

The streets are eerily quiet, but traffic can faintly be heard somewhere beyond the tranquil fog. Even as leaves crackle underfoot, the silence is invasive.

Leaf-spattered sidewalks lead to leaf-covered lawns and homes. A sense of antique disrepair haunts the foundations. Colorful sidings are weatherworn with pain slowly peeling.

As a soggy wind blows, leaves trickle from the trees like a fiery rain. Tik-ritta-skit-tik.

An exercise machine, seemingly abandoned, rests on a musty porch. Right next to the machine is a door. The screen within its wooden frame is silver from the spider webs that leak from every corner. In the yard, shovels and rakes lay beneath a crisp cover. It may have been years since they were last touched.