About The Angle Quickest for Flight
He came west, traveling in a long pocket of dawn that never strays far from a sallow gray. Behind him a set of mountains reaches high into a wide sky and on certain peaks are footprints and patches of grass pressed flat against the earth where he had made his camp. Behind these places are other camps and other footsteps and a long walk without a good reason and somewhere back there are his parents, alone now, in a house too big for them, wondering where their son has gone.