The Dirt

Tappanappa. I can’t get the name out of my head as we bump along Tappanappa Road. Well, out of my mouth really; a rally of small sounds between lip and tongue. I must appear afflicted. Thankfully, I’m with the in-laws and they see bigger flaws.

Tappanappa Road is a series of small wet bumps from months of rain. It winds. It dips. It splashes. The weather’s clear today though. The only cloud around is the one the forest slowly exhales as the sun dips low.

We unfurl from the car and on cue, the black cockies mourn. Every