reunited...

...and it feels so good.

Neil Young’s boot made it back to my doorstep today. All the sweat and sweet bourbon in the world couldn’t have made me happier. I took it as it rightly was: a symbol, a metaphor, a confidant. We peddled our nonsensical wares to one another.

After urging from the boot, I went into town and proposed to the woman I spend time with. A girl really, but the aging process would remedy that sooner or later.

With Detroit on my mind, I said good-bye to my would-be child bride and headed north. Confident that Neil Young’s boot would find me once again. Perhaps.