this morning #337.

this morning, this spring was about to swing from silent to violent & he was wandering, pondering his next move. as he finally reached the river bank, he paused. some of his best thinking had been done here & this situation would definitely require some of that. on three previous occasions, he had found himself in a pickle & after getting stoned & skipping a few stones, each time some form of clarity came. this sort of awakening would not happen a fourth time though & that evening, he’d find himself dodging bullets by ducking behind a denny’s. a quick sprint was the only thing that let him live another day. they’d hunt him down tomorrow though.