Inside My Head

the literary rantings of Angie Frissore

NM Potential Beginning

I sat on the rocks, waiting patiently, examining the small cut  on my right shin which had already turned a lovely shade of reddish purple.  I couldn’t help but recall the last time I had come here, more than five years ago.  Back then it was still a relatively easy task to navigate Castle Rock and find my way to the perfectly flat front section of the seaside rock formation, where one is hidden from view with only the ocean visible on all sides.  Assessing my injury, I sadly wondered if I was getting too old for such adventures.

Soon the sound of the waves crashing on the rocks beneath me was accompanied by the unmistakable sounds of annoyance and struggle from behind me.

“Hey Eric,” I called out.  Perhaps he was getting to old for this as well.

“Jesus Christ….did this rock, like, grow over the years or something?”  A red-faced, sweaty Eric stood over me, hands on his thighs, catching his breath.  “This had better be good,” he joked.  I had asked him to meet me here, hopeful for the advice that had served me so well in the past (when I paid attention to it, that is).

Eric passed me one of the cups of coffee he was expertly balancing and sat down next to me on the rock. He removed two cigarettes from his pack and fished around in his pocket for a lighter.  He lit both at once, passing one to me.  I hadn’t smoked in years, but for the sake of habit and nostalgia, I gladly accepted the offer.

“What did you do this time?” He asked, only half joking.

Even though I knew it was laced with sarcasm, the question resonated in my mind as I pondered my characteristic self-destructive ways and wondered how much of an impact, if any, they had had on recent events.

“Micah left,” I stated, rather matter-of-factly.

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September 9, 2008 - Posted by | No Messages - Excerpts from the Draft | , ,

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