Smoke

   
I thought of a gone boy yesterday and the smell of smoke from the night he built a fire in the floor.  i knew him to be far away.  in the north, he 'd say.  but he is not there anymore.  it's like thinking of him brought him back.  it is a strange thing, like a vision of Christopher McKandless on a road heading westward, to see him here in a town on the east coast.  where it's all so civilized.