The bitter smell in the blackberry briars…

Sep 16, 2014 | Prose Porn, Things I wish I'd written

I lean back, try to forget these fields and flanking hills. A long time before me or these tools, the Teays flowed here. I can almost feel the cold waters and the tickling the trilobites make when they crawl. All the water from the old mountains flowed west. But the land lifted. I have only the bottoms and stone animals I collect. I blink and breathe. My father is a khaki cloud in the canebrakes, and Ginny is no more to me than the bitter smell in the blackberry briers up on the ridge.

…from Trilobites, by Breece D’J Pancake.

Every time I read this guy, I feel like I’m watching a magic act.