Dear Past Self,
Let me tell you a few things you should know;
This is your life now.
I can see that gap between your little eyebrows begin to furrow up.
Well let me untangle it for you now;
It's not the breath catching breeze that I can feel from the top of the cliff,
or the chill that will roll up my spine when I hit the water,
and not even the risk of blood and ambulance sirens.
To fill in your answer blank, yes,
You will laugh in the spur of a bad moment,
And you will look...
I never noticed this before.
There's a little fairy that follows Peter around. Huh.
Why haven't I ever noticed that before? It's glittery and quick. I tried to chase it today.
Okay. Well not impossible. I could do it. Just practice a bit and then I'll catch it. Soon.
I bet Peter could catch it. Without even running.
I bet he could just call it over and cup his hands around it without it even noticing.
Peter went off with Tiger lily a bit earlier. I remember because a bird flew right over Tiger lily's head.
I think it...
The freaking tiny pebbles are getting all stuck in my shoes. Urgggg. This is stupid. I mean why did I come down to the lake anyway? I'm pretty sure I forgot to lock the door too.
Uriah always told me to get fresh air every now and then, and this shore sure has a breeze.
*A chuckle slips out of my lips.*
Yup, definitely a breeze.
This is stupid. I'm not a little kid. I can't kick off my shoes and play pirates by the water anymore. How could I play pirates by myself, anyway? Impossible.
But I can still...
I have writers block.
Okay, I should probably explain myself. I am a writer.
Well its more like I would like to be a writer.
Unfortunately, my brain does not possess this talent and I am here, stuck in a coffee shop because I heard that's where Joanne Rowling wrote "Harry Potter."
But, now that I look around I can't help but notice the clear boundaries between strangers in a coffee shop, in which only waitresses can cross. Even then, for a short period of time.
Maybe half of us here are on either our laptops or cell phones....
"Come here," I whisper loud enough for her to hear me.
She gives me a look and laughs, tilting her head up to the sky.
The bark of the palm tree leaning over the ocean against my hand is hard but smooth.
Like the shore's winds blew away every crack and bump.
"Here," I pat my lap as I prop myself against the tree.
Mocking a shocked look, she kicks the sand up so it sticks against my wet foot.
I stare down for a moment as she comes to settle on my lap.
Her hair smells like salt...