January Towns

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The roar of the unfairly blamed birch are caustic in their triumph today like darts so fast the wind hits them in January towns. January towns are my kind of towns. They bring back the good memories of William and all the others. Yes, these January towns. All shaken up by the new loggers you see on

 

 

January Towns

January Towns. The roar of the unfairly blamed birch are caustic in their triumph today like darts so fast the wind hits them in January towns. January towns are my kind of towns. They bring back the good memories of William and all the others. Yes, these January towns. All shaken up by the new loggers you see on the goddamned TV nowadays: reality television. I’ll give them some reality television — I said that there was nothing that could bring Fallon back. He wouldn’t fit. He was an old-style logger, half-poacher-half-on-the-up-and-up and either way illegal if he’d had it.

   He had rolled the logs down dangerous chutes that there where there were areas of trees that were spersed with primitive remediation of soil just enough to keep it looking innocent like it was its natural habitat. We know it now. The roads were not so long then so he wouldn’t have to travel deep inland with his stupid horses. But the roads are longer now so that's how we know.

   Old hardware stores gone. Old Safeway stores gone. Old everything gone with this goddamned goddamned. I know the people who did it are evil. I could kill 'em all if I could. A global holocaust I'd make. You see, this is what it is to be the chronicler; God turns away from you so that you will live longer than all the others and the turning away is part of that which is to write it all down; I can choose, but I can't choose not to. That truth is a horrible thing to admit. I hate it. But fine!

   And Jennifer! She passed! The faerie stories went along with her, I swear I don't remember them! I swear I remember them! Critters aren't here anymore either. Encroachment of human beings developments. Seems my father told me about that. Why am I still here? It's a curse. I didn't ask for this chronicler's job. This family contractor has lost his way and is blowing his top. Yet he'll calm and continue.

 

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