Free-Range

Red had worked the edge sector for some time. He wondered if the slightest vibrations of passing vehicular monstrosities might in fact be the key, and he soon deduced that eventually he might just rattle himself free from the blackened industrial abys.

Ever so slightly he rattled himself unnoticed for years... Ever closer... Closer... Closer...

He could smell the sweet sunshine breezes wrangling themselves inbetween the twisted crevaces... See the tips of mythic verde life strands flowing freedom as once told by the Iron Elders...

Longing with all his rustic might and with every weld of his battered being...

One day... he would know the truth... One day... he would bust out of the dark corrugated hell in a steely fury and scrap his way into the divine free-range light.

"Free-Range" ~ Austin, Texas © Skip Hunt