Traveler's Dust

The world stretches away. Chase it! Run it down! Cross the horizon into places unseen. Let far-flung wonders stick like a fine layer of dust and when the horizon shimmers at the edge of your vision chase it yet again. Go! Specks of what you’ve seen and what you’ve learned will blaze behind you. People will marvel at your bright burning traveler's dust.

But, beware! You will grow weary. You will slow down. And when you do a single speck of dust will come crashing forward. It will tumble through you unnameable and unreachable. And when it's ready it will reveal itself in the strangest of ways. You will be on a subway train whirring beneath castles. A phone will ring and the song on that phone will be Left my Heart in San Francisco. A woman will reach into her purse to answer and you will think, “No, Ma’am please. Just let it ring.”