That Final Conscious Breath Before You Fall Asleep.

Fortuity.

“Said one observer on Gallatin Road, about three-quarters of a mile north of the storm, ‘The tornado cloud was first observed while watching the unusual hail, which fell prior to the storm. The cloud approaching from a westerly direction appeared like a huge inverted cone moving rapidly across a light-colored background of rain, looking very much similar to a shadow moving across a motion picture screen.’”

https://www.weather.gov/ohx/nashvilletornadomarch1933

One had a day; one had a year.

(RMS, September 2021.)

Tent life.

Summer 2018, Nashville, TN.

Banishment.

(RMS, 6-8-22.)

The Selk: two years free, flowing, and floating.

(RMS, 8-31-2022.)

One hundred and thirteen years.

One hundred and eleven years.

We know you were terrified, brave, horrified, strong, resilient, panicked, and courageous, and we honor you this night of the year. Death is not failure. Your lives were you and you remain wonderful, somewhere out here in our atomic jigsaw of existence. I’m so sorry you experienced such horrors.

Deepest of peaceful rest to you.

“Hunger, hunger is the purest sin;

It is an empty church in a crowded bin.

I’ve wept and I’ve stumbled

I’ve fought and I’ve craved

For the gravy of your soul,

But all I want to do now is walk among the

Barren trees in fields of snow.”

—Susanne Sundfør: “White Foxes”

Memories in the soil.

(RMS, 3-1-2023.)