Sea of Tranquility
I went to the ocean. Once. A day trip from the Big City to a place where nobody knew me. I wiggled my toes in the sand and swam in tandem through a swath of moonlight.
Never do I remember being more myself.
When the moon glowed on something white, I picked it up and took it. Polished it on both sides. A momento of my perfect life, worn on a string, tickling my heart.
Now, I stand on a rickety farmhouse porch with flowers sprouting from one fist and hold my breath. I try not to stare at her father’s snuff stained teeth. I pretend not to notice his sweat-stained clothes, while he yammers on about the price of cows and the injustice of the TVA.
She floats into the room. Short hair curled around her face, dressed in high-waisted slacks with wide legs. Just like Kate Hepburn, only without the curves and flowing tresses. Before I know what happened, she thrusts the flowers at her father and flutters to the car.
I put the top down and watch the moonlight shimmer in her hair. And, I gave her my shell. Plucked from my Sea of Tranquility. Transformed into a token of the man I will try to be.
A fiction series. Long overdue. Because, you must be well-and-truly-sick of reading about my life by now. So, what happened to that door? A series of possibilities. I’ll explore one or several. If it was even a door I passed at an intersection on the way to an appointment. Read the first installment here, the second installment here, the third installment here, the fourth installment here, the fifth installment here, and the sixth installment here.