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The Cog in the Tree Box

In by Wyatt on August 13, 2010 at 9:20 am

Darkness misted gently, the breeze was cool. Orange fluorescence and shuffling leaves. No cars, just orange pavement, glistening. Deep, humming quiet.

Stepping past a patch in the sidewalk left untouched, with a lone tree planted inside. Flourishing, sort of. At the skinny trunk’s base, a rusty cog the size of a small plate. It’s hefty. I pick it up and roll it on it’s side. The metal clink against the sidewalk at first contact gives way to a steady rattle as the cog rolls down.

It bumps into the next tree and falls horizontal once more. Like this, it travels.

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