I really don't know how to describe this one. |
The sailboats were birds in flight over a sparkling ribbon of water. They raced to catch the ever-moving sun. The air smelled of fish and water, leaving its flavor in our mouths and aching pangs of hunger in our bellies. The sails of the boats appeared to be brightly hued , massive flags suspended in mid-air; snapping gaily in the breezes. The gentle song of the lapping waves lulled me into a state of nirvana and the gritty taste of air was like sandpaper brushed over my tongue, making me thirsty. Yo no soy marinero, soy capitan. Bo Jangles, Binkie Bear, and the rest of our crew headed to Mexico on the waters of the Brazos; all the while singing rock-and-roll hymns. They weren’t really hymns- more like songs of drunken revelry. Our nights lasted until we were chased to our bunks by Dawn’s first light. Our shoes were safely stored away in cubbies because being young and full of life, barefoot was simply the way to go. The clear skies of our minds finally became clouded with excessive drink and herb. We were as sober as the wine-o’s who sleep behind the liquor store. Our floating party was all that and a bag of green. We cart-wheeled through purple clouds and danced wildly on the surface of the stars. Jenn was in the midst of all the fanfare- taking mental snapshots of all the people and experiences which cast their spells on her; knowing that one day, these memories would be all that remained of her youth. They would keep her company during the ear-splittingly loud silence of her solitary existence in old age. The rum helped me forget what I wanted to remember later. The booze gnawed at my insides and whispered inside my head, tales of invincibility. And then, the coming of the sun prodded us to seek the cool darkness below-decks |