I'm calling in my role as the difficult client. First silhouette of the trees, predawn sky to the east. Lettuce falls from the corned beef sandwich. The voice that was late within us. In such weather, one can watch bananas ripen in real time.
Day lilies unfurl, the sky brightens before the sun arrives, almost pink through the tall poplars.
Black dog wanders in the large yard in the far end of which a crow has just settled. In the forest, a small wood-frame house, burnt to the ground, no sign of people anywhere. He opens the palm of his hand to reveal a lightning bug, which rises slowly in the night air before it shines. In the forest, voices, laughing. Just how leathery the flesh of my own neck has become.