The first blush of summertide colored my cheeks. I felt the tips of the fiery breath of those dog days licking at me as they raced through the solar system toward my front door. The cooling night ushered me into my house. I stepped in on the hardwood floors that radiated heat like an oven just done baking.
I have a love/hate relationship with my house. I love the dandelion salad bowl in my front yard that vibrates with life in the wind. I love the carpet of oregano from a long abandoned garden. But some days I long to live on the boat again when the sea was my front yard. The seals slipped and slithered and danced through it, tenderly bobbing, entwined together and one moment I swore that they kissed. The shrimp clung to the bottom of my boat announcing their sex with click, click, click. ‘I am here, dear’, they called to each other through my acoustic hull.
I miss the days of reading Nietzsche until the last bits of dusk disappeared into the water, while B slept inside. I missed him when he left and reached out to him like through telephone tendrils that snaked through the sky and through the earth to Denver, high in in the mountains. ‘I am here, dear.’ We clung to each other across that vast distance.
We all live in a microcosm, nested in a macrocosm, enveloped in the universe that blooms from the unknown.
What if there were a great awakening of atoms,
Where they all remembered their vast and intricate histories,
and atomic explosion
I left my house because I hate it’s cavernousness, it’s emptiness. I walked and I looked at the microcosm reflected in the windows of buildings; a ghost world.
I came to my familiar, my haunt, and my friend was waiting for me. I know you’ve been here before with me, reader, but we haven’t spent any time in the lounge. It’s darkness holds comfort and comfort food. Spicy Corn and Zucchini Fritters with mint. The drinks are strong and head-swooning.
We ate and talked and walked back up the hill in the darkness. Arm in arm, Ethan pushed his bike along beside us. I know I will end up somewhere else, because every life is a journey. Every meal is a feast.
Quality Burrito Lounge
213 4th Avenue East, Olympia, WA 98501-1104 (360) 357-3997