Thursday, June 17, 2010

Creativity Boot Camp Day Eleven & Twelve: Hush & Smooth

I'm playing catch whole week has been thrown out of wack because of my wonky work schedule. To remedy that, I'm combining yesterday and today's assignments to save time and energy.

Hush & Smooth

His name was Brett and he was a commercial fisherman by day, game booth attendant by weekend night. He was older than I was - not by much, a year or so, and he had the smooth voice of a late great blues singer. 

And he smelled like salt-water taffy and the sea. 

If I could have bottled it up and taken it home with me, I would have. And even though id only known him for four days I knew that life after Seaside would never be the same.

I felt bad for spending so much time with Brett and not spending as much time with Hannah, but she didn’t seem to notice - her attention was so caught up in Sam that she didn’t seem to notice I wasn’t around. 

One night after the sun had set, Brett and I were sitting on the beach, the remnants of a bon fire burning low to the left of us, he turned to me and said, "what do you think will happen when spring break is over and you go back to Seattle?"

I shrugged, not wanting to think about because, honestly, it hurt my hurt. I couldn’t fathom going back to my stumbling existence back in Seattle. I felt like up there I was stumbling through life, stumbling from one point to the next, hoping I’d make it through. 

That had all changed now. Maybe it was the sun and that the salt in the air, the sea, whatever, but it all seemed clear now. I don’t know how that made sense, but it did. With Brett, things just seemed to click in the place. 

As the fading rays of the setting sun caught his hair in the breeze, I really began to wonder what would happen when I went back to Seattle. 

I could break up with William, end our relationship and continue seeing Brett, maybe try that whole long distance thing. 

I shivered and leaned in closer to Brett, listening to the oceans hushed lullaby, in and out, in and back out, as waves met the earth before retreating into the sea again.

"It will all work out," I told him even though it felt like a lie.

Brett ran his fingers through my hair. "I hope so," he murmured. 

"Me too."

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