1 August 2008: Raw Nourishment; doux comme miel, et cetera
August 1, 2008
The mead flowed until it stopped and San Claude couldn’t help but wonder what was lost in the fermentation process. This would become an obsession of his, and nobody else had or has ever shared this obsession. The obsession flowered into mythic words and those words will someday become unintelligible (they have nearly done so already, after all, as have these.) Long after his bones have turned to ash, his enigmatic scratchings and symbols will echo his name, unremembered, and the honey will continue to slowly flow.
The mead flowed until it stopped and San Claude turned to the stranger called Michelle and smiled. He likely would not have done so but her smile invited his boldness. Time may have passed, but Claude’s watch had stopped ticking. Events became compressed. The taste of honey on her lips made him quickly forget about the drained supply of mead – honey’s sweetness was judged best in context it seemed. The scale was sliding. Long after San Claude’s bones had turned to ash, Michelle would remember this enigmatic man, this night, et cetera.
Left Overs.
6:40 PM CST Fargo, ND USA
