From here, I can trace the path in the distance, my finger carefully moving along where my feet will walk. If I walk that far. My mind has wandered there. I could look further in the distance to where I could now, I could look back to where I came from, to the point I stood now.

The figure, walking along in their red jacket, is wandering there. They can trace their finger along to where I am standing right now. They could imagine what it is like for the guy in the grey coat. The same coolness, the same sea beside both of us. If they walk this far.

I turn around and walk the other way. Back inside, out of the wind and rain. And the ants continue to stay underground. They asked to be mentioned.

Edwin Jones

From a Distance