Wednesday, May 19, 2010

Double Post!

An apology before my post(s): I fled to the boonies after my schoolwork was finished and experienced a very pleasant week sans internet (except to play Civilization IV with some friends). I have since returned to Stacheville and chained myself back up to my computer. Barring some internet- or Kevin-destroying disaster, there should be no more lapses in posting this summer. Thanks for your imaginary patience.

Kevin Foster

Balloon – 135 words (5/19/10)

He knew he was approaching nine-hundred feet because the air was noticeably colder, thinner, though he could feel the heat of the burner lick at his face. If the sun hadn't gone down or he hovered over a city, he would have seen the fields turn into a checked board, but he was tired of lights which is one reason he liked to fly at night. His chest stung as he took in the darkness through his nose; he liked it, the curious feeling of the cool, dry air and the lingering warmth of the propane fire. He tried to recreate it in his car, flying down the highway in the winter with the windows rolled down while unleashing the fire of the engine on his feet, but it wasn't the same and backwards besides.

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