The plane touches down on the arctic tundra of the Midwest. Very little culture, no nightlife, nothing new and exciting. He sets up camp- puts things in order. It's only a matter of time before the hibernating heart of the wild begins to thaw... and he'll be there to capture it.
An hour later there's a fire. That's the first thing- warmth; then shelter; then food. But those things can wait for a moment... and they do.
The crackles crack and the smoke rises into the gray sky. There's a stillness on the ground, in the air, on the breath- magnified by the steady spit and hiss of a twigs' final perturbation- broken now-and-then with pops of short-lived stars dancing and swaying- disappearing like the million lives of fireflies. Already a memory before they are born- like dreams and past loves... but more real... And less.
No matter what else he may think about it, the fire is nice. And that's enough.
(I'm him, this intro is the fire and you are the future... I'm waiting to shoot your silly ass and prove to the world the Midwest doesn't have to suck. You down?)
An hour later there's a fire. That's the first thing- warmth; then shelter; then food. But those things can wait for a moment... and they do.
The crackles crack and the smoke rises into the gray sky. There's a stillness on the ground, in the air, on the breath- magnified by the steady spit and hiss of a twigs' final perturbation- broken now-and-then with pops of short-lived stars dancing and swaying- disappearing like the million lives of fireflies. Already a memory before they are born- like dreams and past loves... but more real... And less.
No matter what else he may think about it, the fire is nice. And that's enough.
(I'm him, this intro is the fire and you are the future... I'm waiting to shoot your silly ass and prove to the world the Midwest doesn't have to suck. You down?)
heathen:
Do I detect a bit of a writer in you as well?
furiousturtle:
Dear me, no. Why?