Hammons: Writing and Running in Boulder, Colorado






W.R. HAMMONS: WRITING AND RUNNING IN BOULDER, COLORADO

The Crevasse, Page 6



Jump Jim! Jump Jim! Jump jump jump! His head was beginning to throb once more. He walked out onto the narrow balcony and felt the cool, moist air against his clammy skin.

The sky had started to rain a cold, driving rain. Jump Jim Jump Jim Jump Jim Jump Jump Jump! Now he looked down below, at the streets that glared up at him in their savagery. The Crevasse was there, waiting patiently for him as that old heaviness came creeping through him. He could just give it all up and go to the streets. That would be the easy thing to do.

No! No! No! It was a tiny part of him, an oh-so-very-tiny part of him that at one time had been much bigger. And would be big again. No! No! No! That was not for him. The Crevasse could be transversed. The Crevasse could be tamed.



The Crevasse by W.R. Hammons:

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