Though we live by the US dollar…

Daily Thought

We glided through the trees down the empty emerald road, shining in sunlight, bike floating across the tarmac.

It had been one of those April days, before then, when I was going town to town on my brother’s battered old scrambler. The rains had passed leaving a rainbow glittering in the sky and I was stopping off for coffee. The bike jerked into a bay, the bike me and my brother had fixed it up specially when I was still a kid, so I knew it, knew that it worked, how it worked, loved its grimy metal bars and gasoline groan.

The stop-off was a dinky little place, shrouded in blues and browns, and simmered in the smell of fresh espresso. I picked it because it looked special, and it was. I walked in, ordered something black, and there she was, the ephemeral Hunt, sitting by the window and sipping. I went down and sat in front of her and looked into her eyes and said

“Can I get you another drink?”

and smiled.

She ordered bourbon on the rocks and laughed to herself when I didn’t flinch.

“I’m Hannah,” she said.


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