Albert On A Summer Day

[Kristine_ES]

Albert placed one foot in front of the other, slowly, decidedly, in the rusty soil as he made his way towards his weekend hammock and tried desperately not to think about cosmic rays and how they would hang up space travel. He wanted to call it silky earth, that stuff under his feet, then wondered if other worlds, other feet, felt the silky coolness under similar toes. They would never call it terra cotta, he was sure.   Albert hung three inches above the brown grass in the faded white net of his hammock, tracing pictures in cotton clouds.  His wife looked out the kitchen window wondering if he was having another heartburn dream and she prepared herself to listen to his gentle ravings, hoping he'd write it all down later because something--SOMETHING--had to come from the visions he seemed to receive after he ate at Subway. Albert stared at the robin's egg sky, studied white cotton clouds, watched skittish finches go by looking for fresh water, and he wondered why the crows, big and certain, were the first ones to fly away when motorcycles went by. 

[Jeanette Cheezum]

Great story.

[Mike Handley]

Oustanding, Maiden!

[Kristine_ES]

gracias!

been writing from the edge of reality. one foot on land, the other in a daydream. keep coming back to visit you guys. sometimes the page is all we got, you know?  you know.

gita: love chipotle sauce on everything these days, especially SALAD, can you tell i want to steal albert's lunch? 

[Jamie Hogan]

Silky earth and rusty soil and all of it. All of it. Love how this plays on the edge, not quite sane but not quite crazy. Very skillful, Kristine.

[Angela]

Albert's musings are a fine glimpse into a very interesting mind.  The heartburn from Subway being a catalyst for his kind of thinking was imaginative.  Also, I love the "silky earth".

[Teresa]

I had to read this twice to catch the "rusty soil".  How had I missed "space travel" the first time?  What did Sandra write?  Thick?  Me doubly so.

[Sandra Davies]

If by 'edge of reality' Gita means challenging, yes, you are such, you do do it well, to the extent that the frst couple of read-throughs I feel really, really thick, grasping at magical ideas just beyond my understanding.   Which is not to say I don't appreciate being stretched.

[Gita]

As I agree with Floyd, I'd also like to add that you are one of the few writers here who does "edge of reality" really well.

*I happen to eat the veggie sandwich at Subway quite often and suffer no ill effects. Try it sometime with the southwest chipotle sauce.

[Bill Floyd]

You do such a fine job of mapping that strange continent where inspiration resides.  Or in this case, the borderland where it crosses over into our heads.  I love the "heartburn dreams" that "he seemed to receive after he ate at Subway."  Ridiculous into the sublime, Kristine.  Love it.