Confluence

It’s all about the confluence, really, and that narrow spit of land where the two rivers become one.

There’s a big rock at the end of it, and if you hang around there long enough something interesting always seems to happen.

One day when I was sitting on it, this girl paddled up in a canoe and asked if I wanted to help her search for the lost treasure of Roberto Clemente.

Advertisements

About ubu507

memory documentation and manipulation
This entry was posted in From A hypnagogic Journal, Pittsburgh, Poetry, Travel. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s