chapter1. everything in its right place.

chapter 1. (everything in its right place)

6 A.M. has never seemed so bright. Maybe its because the summer sun likes to play tricks on the inebriated mind or maybe its just because I drank too much. But either way, every window, every dreaming eye is watching me walk this street. The clouded glass hides piercing glares, ridiculing me. The lake glows with anticipation for the coming day. And the sun is just a little too excited for my taste. Its like someone just decided to skip the dimmer and go straight for the light switch.
I’ve walked this street too many times. It only goes straight, right across the water, but I feel like I shouldn’t be here. Like I made a wrong turn. Again, this is all probably just because I drank too much. Nonetheless, there seem to be other people here with me. I had completely forgotten. They had run up ahead… or walked, I can’t remember which. Seated on the edge of the bridge their eyes are fixatedly staring into the water’s beaming passion. My mind makes hazy attempts at guessing their thoughts. Sometimes my mind can just feel other people’s and know exactly what they want and what they’re thinking but right now the lake is too distracting. I can barely see past it. Why should something so dead be so vibrant? Especially this early in the morning.
My eyes glaze over with hesitation. In front of me is a fence bent over and broken with the intent of creating a way to get to the water. But knowing me… trying to step over it and onto the edge of the bridge I’ll end up dripping my way home… but I take the step. The thought of walking home wet doesn’t really concern me… I probably deserve it anyway. Last night, I may have done a few regrettable things, but all that’s in my head is running, half-naked, through the streets, the flickering lights above keeping the beat. The faster I ran, the faster I felt the pulse. Unfortunately, my attempts at catharsis (in the form of a certain cancerous habit) have left my lungs somewhat feeble, leaving the tempo a little on the slow side. But it was good enough to stave off the boredom. It was like the ghosts haunting this breathless ghetto were playing a theme song just for me.
But somehow I make it. My feet think for themselves and find there own balance and I sit down next to the two blurred figures. I’m sure one of them is angry with me but I can’t tell which is which. They don’t seem too interested in talking anyway… in fact they’re just sitting, quietly cleaning the dirt out from between the planks of wood that make up the boardwalk. They’re so completely enthralled in this job that I just keep quiet. I don’t really want to say anything anyway because I can never tell what’s going to come out of my mouth when I open it. My only choice is to join them.
As I brush the sand into the water below, a small metal object sticking up out of the surface catches my eye, sunbeams shooting off in all directions. When examined more closely I find that its an old shopping cart. Proof of more lost memories. It looks like it belongs where it is. Like even before its creation it was decided that it would sit, abandoned, right there. Reflecting burning flecks of sun directly into my face. My mind makes another attempt at rational thought. Looking out at the lake, I notice the colors are oddly vivid for this time in the morning and every thing suddenly seems so much more important then it ever has before. The yellows of the sun flood the land and give a new breath to the wildlife. The birds sing brilliantly as they duck and weave between wisps of air. Vines grapple the fences surrounding us and pull them down. Trees bury themselves anywhere they can for fear of being taken away. Nature is the only thing holding this place together. Without it, bit-by-bit, it would begin to disintegrate right in front of our eyes. I look out at this calm, placid being and I see everything in its right place.