"The time has come to move beyond the shadows of the meadow, and forevermore live Onward, etc..."
The wheels of summer were slowly but surely shaking off the rust of winter and grinding into motion. The smell of asphalt wet with kiss of a passing thunderstorm permeated the air, and that was the last straw.
I stopped into the old Polish cobblers shop on the corner of McCaren Park. My left boot now had a new sole, and was ready to continue searching. Searching for old souls.