8:47 a.m. - 2002-06-08
cloud
Cresting up over Mt. Washington the other day, I caught a rare, smog-free, view of the city of Angels; all shiny 'neath empty skies an' shit. Well, almost empty skies. Towards the western periphery of my field of vision hung the frailest little wisp of a cloud you could imagine. A meager little streak of vapour that looked as if it would be overwhelmed by the heat and the sunshine and break apart at any second. But it didn't. It just hung there, like God's errant toenail clipping on an infinite carpet of blue. I kept my eye on it all the way back to Hollywood, impressed by it's lonely tenacity and strangely exhilarated by the whole disparity, scale-wise, between cloud and sky.
