29) Voices carry on the wind. I hear laughter. Give me a moment. I thought I was alone. Damn, I was reflecting just fine. Though, it is true, Dr. Creep, my sole companion, has been silent for days, and the world, a mumbling show. But now I hear laughter. And a machine. Over a rise I see a valley with vineyards, and beyond, a big house. So maybe I want to descend the rocks and hide among the stock. To eat fruit hanging. To be with souls. Yes, I do. All my errant yesterdays I bind with vine.
A tractor works rows away. On hands and knees, I crawl toward the house. For laughter's sake. (This from one who cannot remember laughing.)

Steam rises from a swimming pool. People in hot water. I could be there, warm and washing. They do not see me until I step upon a rose colored patio. Shouting. Panicked splashing. They scramble away. So much for new friends. I am not discouraged. I removed my garments, more like peeling, and into the water I dive. I do not like to see myself without clothes. My suturing is an ugly violet. I do not look at anything but the pool plaster opposite my stroke.