Today, I was haunted.

Tired, I saw how a trail can change without moving a stone.

I rode with the ghost of myself. She trailed behind, seeing tough switchbacks and scary downhills where I saw escapade.

Then I encountered the haunting tendrils of the ocean. She reached out to me with thin wispy fingers. She lurked up the gullies, working her way inland far beyond her typical watery bounds. Her foggy tendrils seduced me into believing that perhaps there was nothing beyond her misty depths. That I would stay forever in her cool embrace. She fogged my glasses, and yet when I removed the lenses the mist remained.

It’s hard to capture a haunting in words.


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