Waves

In Costa Rica the water is the temperature of blood. It doesn’t hurt to get in or out, and for the first second it feels fresh and sweet, like the first sip out of the coconut. Sometimes the waves are big. Sometimes they are too big. The landscape always changes, everywhere, like people. We think we know how big the waves will be. We think we know how we will feel. We turn our backs and get swallowed.

I am in the big waves often. At this point, I know they’re coming. Now, I watch them come at my face and let them swallow me. There is always a moment of panic. Then surrender. And I always come out alive.

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Roll

Every time I go back to the house, it’s the same as it was when I was a kid. The back porch is still a dusty office, and my dad is always there working, organizing papers and typing on that old IBM.

Yesterday it was like in those Christmas movies, when the ghost of the past takes you to your old life. No one could see me. But I saw my dad working, and my brother in the basement surrounded by piles of old boxes and art projects from when we were little. There was too much stuff and I had a feeling there would be a fire and my brother would get trapped inside. I tried to tell them, but they couldn’t hear. So I said to no one, I can’t control the outcome. I will just roll with it.

mostly, people are dicks. cats are way better.