Tonight I went for a bike ride, got kind of lost, ended up a lot of miles outside of town, going in what I thought was the right direction but was actually the opposite-of-right direction. And do you know, those fields just go on and on, and there’s no indication of where you are, or in which direction you’re going, unless you can tell by the setting sun, which is how I noticed I was going in the wrong direction.
Normally, in this sort of situation, I’d just keep riding until I found something, but I’m from a much more populated part of the country than southwest Ohio, and therefore got a little freaked out. Because really, I could be riding forever, and it’d get dark, and there are no street lights, nothing, probably no cell phone signal. And I wouldn’t want to have to freak out some poor unassuming socially-conservative farmer with my fringe-queer ways—I know how deviant I am with the tattoos and blue-black buzzed hair—in the middle of the night asking how to get to Yellow Springs, and they’d be all, Yellow Springs, no shit, I would never have guessed, dripping with sarcasm, because they don’t understand dry humor here, and if they weren’t rude and patronizing to me, they might be afraid that I’d infect their children, but then I’m generalizing, they might be totally cool with me, they should be used to this shit, being so close to Yellow “Twilight Zone” Springs and all. Who can say, really? As long as I don’t mention I’m from the Northeast, I’ll probably be fine.
What frightened me more than that thought was the thought that I’d run out of even the occasional farmhouse, that I’d run out of paved road, that I’d fall off the face of the planet, all sweaty and wobbly and out of breath from too much uphill biking. And that’s no way to go, not today, anyway. And forget all the monsters and bugs the size of small mammals that come out of the woodwork as soon as the sun goes down, big evil wretched things the likes of which I cannot even contemplate.
It was pretty, though. I got this picture at a farm in which sheeps and animals that looked like llamas scurried from the edge of the fence as I approached and stared at me from a distance. Then they got bored and continued to eat, mildly annoyed at the interruption, which merely stared back.
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