Auburn Trail Part II © 2010 Dakini Verona
LOST!
I lost some time again and “woke up” in Sacramento. I don’t remember much about how I got there. I don’t remember the ride. I looked around as saw the hills had turned brown from thirst. It was hot. Hot and humid. Typical Sacramento.
This time the lapse in memory was not drug related, but caused by yet one more trauma. I tried to push away the visuals which were playing back in my mind, stuck in a loop. Flash backs of the narrow escape from that creep-a-zoid predator. I could still smell the pungent odor of his sweat and blood, yet I was almost 100 miles away. I thought back on what had just happened.
I wondered what I must have looked like to standers by on that street in Berkeley: a frantic figure, running down the avenue with a bloodied knife in one hand and her worldly possessions in another. Didn’t they recognize that shrill sound as a scream? I’m sure they must have heard it. But, no one came to my aid. They just turned away, back to their tiny worlds with their tiny problems. They did not want to get involved. There were no heroes in the streets. Not then. Not now.
I brought myself back to reality. I was on the side of the road, with my thumb out, looking for another ride. A car stopped and I approached cautiously.
I felt safe once I saw the occupants of the hippie mobile. I accepted the ride. I mentioned that I was in search of an adventure in the wilderness and was trying to get to the trail I had heard about. These people were heading east, past Sacramento. They said they knew of a cabin which was open for anyone to stay in, outside of a town called Auburn. They said that they could give me a ride. I was set. Or so I thought.
I felt safe once I saw the occupants of the hippie mobile. I accepted the ride. I mentioned that I was in search of an adventure in the wilderness and was trying to get to the trail I had heard about. These people were heading east, past Sacramento. They said they knew of a cabin which was open for anyone to stay in, outside of a town called Auburn. They said that they could give me a ride. I was set. Or so I thought.
hey girl!i am just an italian guy so i cant understand the whole meanings,but there's only a thing can say:all your stories are so beautiful!They make me dream with wide opened eyes!God this is poetry! i like it! Andrea
ReplyDeleteAndrea.... gracias! (not sure if that is how it is spelled). I am humbled by your words. Thank you. My mother was half Italian.. her maiden name is Siracusano, I get much of my passion from that side of my family.
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