To return again but to step away.
Finding not a sequel but your old self in a new town.
Time to run away.
It can be cured again.
Mix the puzzle pieces and it might be write again.
To be unfinished and so to dream.
I read 100 pages I wish to read again.
But how I fear the drift.
May I slip between the cracks?
Of some longed for instant. Other outcomes.
To skate beside King’s usual flex.
Then discover.
Old town. New town.
Danny Torrance’s references. The wine purchase in the morning.
Tony waving in the turret window.
Is there another hallway down a burned manuscript page?
But it isn’t over.
As I said: 100 pages deep.
nicholauspatnaude 
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