A mapmaker hurls his paper, and colored pencils, and all his instruments to the floor. He shoves the entire mess on the floor into the woodstove, regardless of his belief of whether the materials are combustible or not. Alone, he stands outside the flaming stove. The entire world has been perfectly mapped. Computers in tandem with satellites above have done it, too. And he is no longer in it.

Duff Allen is a writer who lives in upstate New York. He has an MFA from Bard College, where he teaches writing in the Clemente Course in the Humanities.

This entry was posted in Fiction and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.