I slid in the mud–voices on t.v. floated out the window, my owww an unnoticed howel to the hungry hangnail-moon. AIM yrs l8ter: OMG WTF EVER HAPPENED 2 BRIAN HALL? but that night broken glass was embedded in my foot. A long deep cut, bloody foot gushing on wet blades of grass… he chased me in circles, we rode out bikes without touching handlebars. We picked up broken window-shield glass, pretending the shards were priceless diamonds. We pulled hairs from giant green men, single strands at a time or in chunks connected to roots and dirt. Once I broke a branch off a tiny tree his dad planted, I grabbed it, put my full 60lbs into a swing, landing hand in hand with wrinkled leaf and bending limb.