the backpack secret is kept in a part of the world I will not travel towards

I don't care what is in that direction. I'm not going.

A train rattles the house as it passes. There are four cars. Right now I imagine an animal is sleeping on the backpack.

It was pawned by the person I don't talk to anymore and I like to think it is better of on it's own.

I hear a bicycle riding in a circle in my driveway. I use a mirror and crouch below the window.

I hear a voice that sounds like mine coming from the tv. That always makes me nervous and proud.

I am working hard. So calm down. I will be out in a bit.

I miss the vultures above the red rock. I burst from inside a vulture in mid air and land where I am right now.