• We ride in a carriage down a desolate desert covered in the veil of the evening. The hooves of a galliant steed hit the ground, shattering the dust beneath. looking into the clouds I see a hand reaching for something; almost as if it had lost something that it could never stand to depart with.

    The hysterical laughter of life stories drown out the constant ryhthm of gallaps and near silence of night. I look into the windows reflection; looking deeply at myself. Thinking that I will never grow older. The ride long, yet felt like it was only a mere few seconds of my memory has now deceased.

    My life long friends who always reamin the same age in my mind have now said there wells and wishes. Ti'l the next ride through mountains and still deserts we will again remember ourselves indistinct from time.