I paused on the front porch. The yellow pickup was already parked next to the building and the neon sign and windows were lit up. To the left of me, the Mountain was a massive silhouette under its snowcapped peak. I stepped off the porch, averting my gaze even as I sensed it still watching me. I started toward the café, my eyes fastened on the path. There was little ambient light, but enough to navigate. My movement must have startled something in the brush—I could hear a rustle and scurry of some small animal, receding fast. Something was throwing shadows of piñon and juniper all around me, and I glanced up ahead to see a full moon on the wane, low and fat in the sky and visible just above the flat roof of the café. And there it was again—that inescapable force of gravity, latching on to me. It wanted me to turn. Wanted me to look. The prospect was terrifying—and yet thrilling at the same time. I’m not sure it was my decision to stop.
What do You think about The Hummingbird's Cage (2015)?
