unknown

Keeping out of the way of the massive door closing shop for the day, if one wanted to, there is time to fall back to the world before this one but neither do. Instead, both stand in place while watching the way the door puts up a fuss towards the end much like a child not wanting to go to bed. After, when the grind of rock on rock finally comes to an end, Benny and Vincent turn themselves around to see a weathered signpost struck in the ground. The sign itself is attached to opposite posts driven deep into the grainy soil giving life to a bed of purple flowers. Pretty in that odd way is the contrast of color, and after they are close, but not to, carved deep into the weathered wood gone gray is a triangle topped with a dot above each point. Towards the bottom is a wavy line and, on the left, a crescent moon while on the right is the rough outline of the sun.

“Is it a calendar,” asks Vincent. “Either that or it’s showing us the length of a day. I don’t get the triangle or those dots.”

“Looks religious actually, you know, the trinity and all of that.”

“If that’s the case, the top of the triangle is pointing straight ahead. What do you say?”

There is no hesitation on Vincent’s part, “Might as well get after it.”

Walking over the rocky surface void of anything green, keeping the sun to their right, the minutes melt into hours all the while the arid landscape is unchanging. Lost pops in, says hello, and then leaves. Left standing is doubt knocking on that mental wall. Together, no words are exchanged as facial expressions are accepted in such a way that has each keeping to that imaginary line drawn across the barren landscape.