thank you for paying attention—your attention is invaluable
I was going to write a narrative about coming second to abolition, but I don’t think that’s what this story is about. I think it’s about a willingness to be affected. A couple friends and I are building a structure on land I bought. I felt useless tinkering with tools. How can I be useful? Who can I be useful to? I walked the dogs through the forest and on my way back, I noticed silver white stripes gleaming from the wreckage decay of fallen trees.
Mycelium—my brain tingles. I go to touch the withered bark only to find it crushed by my contact. It occured to me the trees are decomposing returning to earth. What if I remove the weeds from the understory of the forest line, press down cardboard once they retire, and top it with this mulchy mycelium tree bark?
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