Vancouver Island: A Fictional Narrative
It's silent now. And dark. Morning is still seeking its way to the coast; in four hours it will rise above the mainland mountains to the east. I wait. The sun's halcyon glow will soon touch the shore of Vancouver Island. I wait. Yes, I wait. The morning will bring new adventure, and my wandering imagination rises in crimson flush. At once, the quiet is shattered by the initial belch of sixty-eight degrees let loose from an aging furnace; it slows to a steady rhythmic breath; the warmth gently cradles me. I look out into the inky universe, and there dangling ever so brightly, a planet shines just above the horizon. It reminds me I am here, but I still ponder