Death at Swan Lake

an Art of Dying fragment

We had left Hakan’s apartment. The evening has yet to darken. It is warm, autumn knocking on the door, but summer selfishly refusing to let go. A car or two down the street, the sound of a bus gearing down. Birds still talk. It is very pleasant. The air itself knows how to spell that word: p-l-e-a-s-a-n-t.

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Raised by trolls in northern Sweden, now settled on the California coast a stone’s throw south of the Oregon border. Here I meditate and write. Wolfstuff.com.

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Ulf Wolf

Ulf Wolf

Raised by trolls in northern Sweden, now settled on the California coast a stone’s throw south of the Oregon border. Here I meditate and write. Wolfstuff.com.