The world is a ripe orange ready to be plucked

Hi everyone,

I'm in San Fransisco. I won't be back until next week. Work thing.

Good lord, I love to travel. Leaving places and seeing places are what my heart murmurs with every beat. Or, at least, that's what you'd hear were you to open my heart, brush away the writhing worms, and patch up the holes. (Sorry for that, but now that I've written it, there it will stay.)

I wish that I was in charge of a massive zepplin. I would call her the Munin, and she would be the most famous airship in all the world. I would slowly crawl accross the mountains and plains, tracing the curvature of the land like the caress of a lover's fingers. In a naval uniform, my captain's hat tipped at a jaunty angle, I would welcome aboard people of respect and courage across the globe, and we would spread love and justice for all.

And the adventures, good lord, the heroism!

**With my bronze telescope I would spy a young lass miles away on the great plains of Saskatchewan crying out for help. A dastardly fiend, dressed in black and with waxed handlebar, steals away into the wild to ravish her. But Admiral Trevor Record launches his biplane from the cargo bay of the Munin and speeds off to her rescue. The story goes badly for the villain, as you may imagine, and I share one passionate kiss with the maiden as our bittersweet farewell.

"Say you'll come back for me one day" She calls out as I saddle up in my plane, but I would just squint as I looked into the sunset and smile; a wave as I take off all I can respond with.**

But mostly - and even more importantly, if you can believe it - would be the slowly changing spread of land. The days would be long and dreamlike, as the world below steadily cycles from golden to green to blue, and my heart would belong to no one other than the act of perpetual movement.

Or perhaps just a simple boat - that would be enough. I could etch out the coastlines of the world, and slowly learn the ways of the sea. My beard would grow grey and I'd become uncomfortable without the feeling of movement under me. Maybe I can't expect to be a hero, but just an adventurer in the most small and feeble way would do.

Anyhow, I'll try to write something else later.

-Trevor