I threw the binocular that David gave me into the River
The eye-feasting panorama of milky-white snow peaks stood miles away, at a hateful distance from my single story ten feet tall non-plastered home, siting on the edge of a natural pond fed with rain-water, ruled by duckweed. No bag of tricks could take me anywhere near the crown of monstrous mountains except my imagination given wings. A thought that often flitted through my head was that if only some mystical power suddenly find a way into me and transmigrate me…