I can see across the plain. Over the grass, to the edge of town, where an automobile moves north along I-28. The workers have set fire to the fields. Smoke lines spiraling into the atmosphere. I go to the sea forever.
“The softminded man always fears change. He feels security in the status quo, and he has an almost morbid fear of the new. For him, the greatest pain is the pain of a new idea. An elderly segregationalist in the South is reported to have said, ‘I have come to see now that desegregation is inevitable. But I pray to God that it will not take place until after I die.’ The softminded person always wants to freeze the moment and hold life in the gripping yoke of sameness.”
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