I woke to somebody putting their hand over my mouth.
Then,
barely audibly came “the mantra” –
“PSSST. SSHHH.”
Note – I swear,
one of these days,
I’m gonna find out who the other owner of that mantra is.
Even in total darkness I could tell who it was –
just by the smell of the hand.
None other than Master Sgt. York. And his pipe.
“Follow me.”
“I’m ready.
To Devil’s Causeway?” I whispered.
“Yup.
I know I don’t have to tell you to be quiet like a church mouse.”
I just tapped him twice.
And followed him out the door.
And “into the coming dawn”.
Man was my adrenaline pumpin’.
BSOT
Ian
me, the Dalai Lama & Jack Nicholson 