My eyes were on the target. I could not control seeing what was on the floor. It was an ornament for me, not something which was spun by a weaver in a...garment unit. To me it was even precious than a platinum or petrol, god knows which one is expensive these days, damn it. She came back with a glass of water and noticed I was focused on seeing her bra, without even taking my eyes away. She called me once, but I ignored. Second time, I ignored. Third time she did not call, she came near me and. The hay fields were just turning brown. June was flitting away. What green was left, would soon be uniform yellow ochre, variations only caused by the action of the hot sierra winds that blew the grass this way and that. The fields he had known since he was old enough to notice had not changed, nothing was different. Even the smell of the fertile earth was the same as his memory recalled.Clarity of this familiar landscape, felt somehow, foreign amongst all hazy memories of his recent past. Jake. More

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