by Jake Barnes
In the morning the fog boils up from the ground as I pad down the steps to the lake in bare feet. I stand at the edge of the water naked as a newborn. Tiny ripples lick my toes. I walk into the water until it is waist deep. Then I scrub myself with a bar of Ivory soap.
In the evening I sit in my dad's old leather recliner and watch the sunset. The color of the water changes from blue to black. The sky turns from pink to star-spangled ebony. There is no moon.
In the wee small hours, I get up and sit in the dark in the recliner by the window and watch the reflection of the moon bobbing on the inky surface of the lake, and I think about my dead father and my wayward wife.
Later I lie in bed and think about my past life with more relief than regret, happy to have survived the train wreck, glad to be alive. I fall asleep listening to the shrill lullaby of crickets.
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Inspiration? A lake, a cabin, a divorce.
Captures a momentary grateful solitude well.
A good place to linger awhile.
Good piece. I feel like the "train wreck" could be taken literally and metaphorically, but maybe that's just me.*
Why the north woods is a special place. Enjoyed the calm cadences. *
I started to write "Captures a momentary..." and then glanced up and saw Gary already had written it. I so concur. *
Gary, Carol, Amanda, Daniel, Mathew,
I appreciate the kind words!
jb
It's soothing to have a beautiful spot to ponder ones thoughts and allow our lost loved ones to visit. This is quietly stunning, Jake. *
A happy ending. More or less.
This makes me hopeful.*
I like the way time unfolds in tiny increments of the day. Nicely done, Jake. *
Lovely. (No wonder Tolstoy spent about 1000 more pages there)*