Vaya Con Dios, Enero

“Across from us, perhaps half a mile distant, partly screened by rainbow and mist, like as island slapped by a Titan, a gigantic wheel slowly rotated, ponderous and gleaming.  High overhead, enormous birds rode like drifting crucifixes the currents of the air.”



And with that skipbeating image, January fades out like the final point of light on a turned-off tube teevee, like a beautiful whisper …


[Note: skipbeating image taken from Roger Zelazny’s The Guns of Avalon, pg. 119 of my Avon paperback edition.]