Splinters
SPLINTERS You’re not alone. All of us pick up one somewhere in these tall grasses we wander through, scratching us like a bur beneath a pant leg or the proverbial pebble at the sole of things. Regardless how beautiful the view we’re making for, how grateful we are—don’t get us wrong—to be trekking toward the precipice in the company of friends, still, that bit of dust in your eyeball makes no amends. In theory, it's the one thing between you and a really lovely stroll through unmowed existence. In theory, were there a good, flat rock to rest on and some time to boot, you could begin unlacing the layers to uncover the root of this chafing and clip it like a hangnail. But don’t hang your hat on it. If such nagging delusions have begun to set in, the source of the infection has long since sunk beneath the skin.