They walked up the trail by the railroad tracks. Heading upstream. To where the river made a pool. Where he used to go trying to see hippie girls swim naked. They were never there. On the left the hills dropped through impossibly tall trees down to the river. On the right a green cliff rose trickling with tiny waterfalls. Susannah stopped when saw a banana slug in the moss.
It was bright gold and eight inches long. You could see its alien mouth punching out a leaf, leaving crescent shaped chomp marks. Yellow eye stalks whirling and probing. I want to pick it up, she said.
And he had the sensation he was coming out of a time machine. Continue reading
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