Criss-Cross

Photo by Andre Benz on Unsplash

I like the way the lines criss-cross each other. Criss-cross criss-cross. The great screaming things down here need them to move.

I like to follow the lines too. Just patches of light above me as I creep along them. The metal is nice and cold on my belly. The ground rumbles sometimes and I rumble with it.

The bright places I do not like. I stay away from them.