CARTS OF WINTER

Nears Swissvale, across the street from the Taco Bell and Applebees.

PART 9 - THE LAST OF WINTER

. . . The strange, melancholy dreams and visions were passed on to others, and they in turn would give them away when the time had come. . .

JANUARY 20TH, 1990

I remember GWB’s inauguration, eight, fucking years ago. I was still in my mid 30s.

PART 8

. . . A few weeks later a large storm passed through the region. A man coming home from work had stopped by the store for some groceries, and was on his way to his apartment when he found himself unsure of where he was, and what he was doing. He stayed this way for quite some time, listening to the snow falling and the sound beyond it. He would later have trouble accounting for the time he had lost, and this would perplex him for months to come, until he eventually forgot about it . . .

PART 7

. . .She had as strange dream that night that she remembered the next day, which was unusual as she hardly ever recalled them. It disturbed her enough to write it down in a notebook where she sometimes made notes about significant events on any particular day. In the dream she was wandering through some woods in foggy place, not lost, but not sure where she was going either. She could hear the leaves underfoot, making slippery paper sounds while a dog was barking somewhere nearby. It went on and on, this walking, the leaves, and that dog that always seemed not so far away but not getting any closer. She could see the ground rising ahead and a lawn with scattered tombstones in the distance. . .

PART 6

. . . The storm pissed through, and a brief, but oddly warm and comfortable wind followed, knocking down a few cricky branches and blowing mushy trash around in the alley way behind the house. Days like this spun the woman’s head like a top, filling her with all sorts of strange ideas and clever feelings. She thought about a friend she hadn’t spoken to for years, someone she lost touch with and couldn’t really remember the reason why. A phone call seemed the natural thing but she couldn’t quite muster the confidence, as if to be absent from another’s life long enough meant too much had changed, things were impossibly different and unfamiliar. Ten years seemed like an impossible amount of ground to cover and all the dated reference points would undoubtedly prove strange and awkward. . .

PART 5

. . .The next few days it rained, a kind of continuous, half-frozen mess that nobody in their right mind would get caught out it. It’s the very worst sort of weather, thought the woman, who stayed inside for two entire days rather than experience an inevitable discomfort. . .