Travelling in Sunset

There was smoke rising over every hill on the trip out to the coast.

I looked out the window, and thought that it was sunset; the sky was dusty with lavender and the sun was the color of hot metal.

It was mid-afternoon.

The colors set and drifted for hours. It was the smoky dark of twilight, but with no shadows. It wasn’t the creeping darkness sliding into corners and expanding.

It was just a bus, heading to the sea, under the tired rainbow of evening.


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