A grass fire crackles, snaps and roars through the long grass in the park across the road. The sun is 5 minutes away from setting behind the hills in the other direction. Ash falls from the sky, and with smoke, moodies up what's left of the afternoon, and winter. Sitting on an old couch facing west I try not to think about today. My mind's soot also needs to settle down, give me clarity. It's like a swiss cheese with holes that's crawling with ants.