a memory of hot sun rays penetrating my skin.

No-path is quite lovely indeed, it means i can start summer today.
A fox sat on the steps.  An almost surreal experience to have a fox for pet for one day. I do not like a fox' face, i do like it's tail. You think i can write a book this way?
The question really; do i think i can write a book this way? I like to write a book this way. As i will always long to keep driving when driving 1000 miles, or keep walking when walking 10 hours. Should 1000 miles mean something , because now it is followed by 10 hours, in the story when properly written this way this idea should come in threes and  now there should  be only 1 me.
If i only could come up with more then one me. You might know my desire for wanting to write fiction. Why is it darker in the open field than it is in the thick spruce forest. I know why;  when you would cut open all these  trees, the wood is almost white, pure light and  golden sap. I have four horses tonight, and that fox for a pet. An old dark stallion, and a family of 3, the mare, her foal and a male. And then the thought of my lover drifts into my mind, his mane flowing, the most beautiful of shiny black hair, so soft, tie me up in these locks, let me drown in your sweat, from all your hard work just for me.  And the waves of the sea crashing on the beach, erratic, not so calm tonight, almost building up to some kind of  tragedy, or exhilaration! surprisingly.
So lovely this no-path, the wind rattles the chimes, and there is no story, no beginning, no end, no suspense, how lovely, how lovely, to be all soft and laying in the warm sand on this first day of summer. You, there is only you i can think of.