Thursday, April 5, 2012

moonlit run or goodbye

For th first time in 20 years I am running in the dark. Not quite because of the full moon. I am reminded of the olden days when I would strike out from the house on Agua Fria street into the Caja Del Rio across the Santa F river and through the territory of La Llorona. I could tell when she or her fellows were near when the hair on the back of my neck would rise in a primeval response to extrasensory threat. Boy was I fast then. I would run until exhaustion then turn for the hard run home. I would challenge myself to keep ahead of my ghost with a real sense that if I was caughr by myself I would die. I would run faster and faster until there WAS no speed left and then I would hold on for the eternity of the imaginary finish at the river or the road. I would drag myself the last few yards home cook a 2lb bag of spaghetti dump a can of tuna and a block of cheese on it. drink a gallon of watered down cranberry juice and sleep the sleep of the just. (or the just damn tired)
 I remember distinctly the day(night) that I lost my hometown. 4 miles out at midnight and I turn for home. Something is terribly wrong . I cannot see the ground in front of me because I am blinded by lights. It had crept up on me like the fog had crept up on those poor Los Angelinos in California. I had to try to saty on the road because of the loss of night vision.
After that night I took to wearing a hat. If the hat was at just the right angle it would block the lights of the...City.
The magic was gone though. I no longer communed with La Llorona and her ilk and one night I ran into a 4 foot high cholla. I ran home on adrenalin could not  work for a few days and within a few weeks I said goodbye forever to the Caja without knowing it.

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