Hard Currency
Not all pebbles are in focus, not all dreams are still there when you wake, not all memories retain their luminosity, because life would be too easy if everything were perfect that way. The river that once ran here now is just a creek; the water flowed to other places or else it just evaporated; everything eventually soaks into the earth. The ground is only worth the dirt in which it’s vested; everything else is rocks or whatever cells begot— the trees and people and all thei
