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The Mind's Eye

A short story about expectations, impulse, and being taken by the mountains.

Earl bends over and lifts each of Spot’s legs through the loops of his mobility harness, pushing the dog’s shaggy, black fur out of the way as the clips click into place. Spot turns toward the door and wags his tail.

“Dad, you still do this every day by yourself?” Martin asks.

Earl zips up his cracked leather jacket and replies, “Why shouldn’t I?”

“Well for one, you can’t see.” Earl turns away from Martin to face the door, then slides his gold wedding band off his finger into a ceramic bowl adorned with soaring Steller’s jays. “And second, there are cliffs just a few steps off the trail. It seems a little...steep,” Martin says, emphasizing the steep.

“Nah,” Earl grunts, waving his hand, “I’ve got my trusty boy to guide me.” Earl reaches his hand out to pet Spot’s head, but misses several times before making the connection. The blurry outline of his son stands before him. Earl can’t make out faces anymore, but he can still see motion amid the fog of blending colors. He wishes Martin would move more. The damn boy is always standing still. Never in a rush to do anything in life...

Message from Zack

I hope you enjoy this latest chapter of Tales of Twilight, which was inspired by my travels throughout various mountain ranges in the American West last year.

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Zack Thoutt
9450 SW Gemini Drive
Beaverton, OR 97008

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