Mosquito Escape

Oct 2, 6 a.m.

Quiet again. Driven here by mosquitoes. Slightly cold. Birds chirping. Ground wet with dew. Airplane flying overhead, the only noise. I have been looking down till now. A red plane flies. It turns as I watch, the sound that of a base guitar. Still playing that one note, now shifting up, now back down, but still audible. Maybe its kingfisher, maybe air force. A withered feather lies near my leg. Them pesky mosquitoes have followed me here. Yet still this is sufficient an escape, this intro-nature, of the early morning. Another red plane files by, this one doesn't turn. The note still reverberates, now though it sounds like a car being started. Vroooom. Or maybe a mixer in the mess equipped with surround sound effects. This fallen plant here looks so out-of-place, while the little empty cigarette box on the floor is 'part of the landscape'. A single red-pink flower blossoms, staring out at me. Well I guess my 1000 characters are over, so I should move off. Silence. Bye.