Day 266: Ballad of El Goodo

I was driving home from the lake. We were almost home and there was a dead deer on the side of the highway. A dead deer is not an unusual site, especially this time of year. As we sped past, the headlights caught the glass-green eyes of the deer and reflected back to me. I have seen the eyes of animals in my headlights many times, shining back at me as a warning to steer away or drive slower, dumb and innocent. But I saw these eyes shining from the ground and was surprised that even in death the deer’s eyes reflected my headlights, bright green. Piercing. The deer must have been killed recently. I did not know such a phenomenon was possible, but my mind is attuned to a new frequency anymore. I can’t help what I witness in my eye or in my mind’s eye.

I am also attuned to the frequency of the moon, its light and visibility. Last night, it was full. It begins to wane. The night Miles died, it was almost new. There was only a sliver remaining. In the next month, it will wane back to new, and every day is a step diminishing back to the August phase I experienced that night when I drove around in the dark looking for signs, looking for him.

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