Thunder rumbles. It’s the only thing keeping me from going running right now. Spring break plans came and went, and now I’m alone typing, unsure if I’m even capable of cohesive sentences. And ideas? We walked on the beach one night amongst spattered “randoms” and junk swept out from under waves as if the Ocean was busy spring cleaning. Sticks piled in black clumps, resembled beached dolphins until a closer look told otherwise. I kept walking in the dark out onto the peninsular sandbar, unable to distinguish where the blanket of waves covered the bed of shore.
Passing the mysterious black tree stump crowned in roots, my friend Matthew and I walked in stride. He taught me a military way to shuffle my feet to get our steps back in rhythm. I say that to say after all my visiting friends have left, I see my life ahead, and I feel like I am eating the non-fat, non-sugar way of living because it doesn’t quite taste right. I’m off stride with what I want, and I’m missing steps.