Throughout my life I've had this odd connection with orion. Not some new age, crystal gazing sort of fate and aura connection or anything. It's more of like a sense of cohabitation, the kind you feel when you stare at a birthmark or mole on your body. So wrapped up in deductive reasoning and epiphanic thinking that even your own body, the network of nerve bundles, dendrites and synaptic endings (action potential and all) creates a wonderful sense of dualism, a separation of mind and body. Orion is another faithful trait I cannot -and would not even if able- part from. The belt, the red giant giant shoulder, and that geometric form pulls all the familiar heartstrings usually plucked by family scrapbooks and photo albums. The saddest thing about leaving the island is, and I know this is a common, cliche complaint, is the dwindling brilliance of the evening sky. No longer can I make out the hazy mist of the milky way's tail, nothing can compete with the surrounding light pollution. Marbles. Bag of marbles. Drinking coffee and smoking cigarettes, listening to rumors of snowfall. Two flakes, I hear, were seen by someone.