November 10th, 2003


Another mile...

The sand was damp but dry enough to slide under the feet, and the wind blowing up my back, as Jet drove his line of trucks around the sandbox outside the mall. Cold. Deep bone cold, but he was too intent on the trucks to let it bother him. I just watched, shuffled, walked around his lineup of big rigs, and watched until it was time to go. Then we went into the canyons and valleys of flashing lights, loud music, and glittering displays of dreams.

Jet ran for it, at one point, actually going faster when he looked back to find me behind him. He managed to disappear, entirely, at the Old Navy, at one point, and John got lucky and found Jet fascinated by a giant, flashing gumball machine. Now I know why some people put leashes on their toddlers. He's just so fast...

But we walked, safely, to the 'choo-choo' and went under tunnels of concrete, and over bridges of steel that spanned a flowing river of lights on cars.

Miles to Rivendell: 363