Voices on the Wind Open Theme
Turning The Round by Ken Boe Who can tell enemies from lovers, their racing hearts triggering signals intelligence algorithms in the computers of the NSA. Who can tell the wind from the seeds of the cottonwood breaking at the hedge, a counter-intelligence of the creek where the road begins, or for some it ends. This is where enemies bury bodies. This is where lovers park to create new ones. There are many directions here to take. You can follow the wind, or follow the stream. Only on the road can you “turn around,” an illusion of time and space. As the seed is the wind, the future is covered over in the spit of the message. The lovers dig their graves beneath a satellite dish array of cottonwood trees connecting the round of the earth to its spin. The signals analyst adjusts his dials on a screen pretending to be analog. Information presented in pie charts, like wooden legs screwed into a table.