CUTTY SPOT

‘No cars were on the gravel road. I walked along it for many miles. Finally I reached a crossroad, and I stopped for a minute in the middle of the intersection, looking ahead of me, and also to either side. The street in every direction looked the same. It was flat, and there was no ditch, only trees and heavy foliage that had grown up to, or encroached all the way against, the edges of the road itself. I sat down cross-legged in the middle of the intersection. My feet hurt. I was wearing sneakers, but I wasn’t accustomed to walking for this length of time, and in this kind of persistent, yet uneventful way. A  raincloud that had seemed to be slowly following me began to catch up with me, or to that part of the sky beneath which I now was. I could hear the rain behind me, tinging against the road as it got closer. Then I was under it, and I could feel it. ‘