No witness to the wild

Almost went to the wild today. I decided instead to attend to a few domestic life necessities. That’s alright. It’s not like wildness gives a damn if I come to visit. The dead winds howl across the Indifferent badlands, against and over the cold black mountains, through and along silent sand washes, and twist and bend the dry, thorny foliage, with or without my attendant, failing gaze.

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