black_oak tender_square note to self: pack runners in the car so you won't be caught out in the dirt like you are now, d'orsay flats digging into your bunions and sliding off your heels as you step. clop. clop. clop. there's only one way in and one way out. the black-eyed susans stare at your lacy floral top and give gracious nods. this is a fifteen-minute quick step; you nearly step on a serpent that slithers out from the fronds and out of your way. later, when you retrace your path, a smaller snake coils into inertia. you poke it with a stick, gently, to see if it still moves. it doesn't. 230810 what's it to you? who go blather from