Out of the Foam by Russ Bickerstaff

Crawling out of the foam and I feel the respiration of the morning. Feels actually kind of nice. That feel of spring that’s just out there. And off in the distance I’m hearing a whole bunch of other people waking up more or less at the same time as I am, but I can’t worry about them. I’ve got work to do. I just have to figure out what exactly that work might be. It’s going to be a very, very long day. today is looking much, much less defined than previous days had been and I’m pretty sure that I’m running out of time. I don’t know.

Of course, a trip to a kiosk terminal shows that I’m kind of right about this . . . at least kind of right about it because I have only enough money for the rest of the week and even the nobly if I’m going to be very, very careful about things and not call too much attention to myself, which could actually prove to be kind of tricky under the circumstances . . . the circumstances being that right now I actually kind of need the work. And I’m not exactly sure how best to proceed under circumstances like this, but there’s almost certainly something that I seem to have forgotten. I don’t know. 

Traffic rolls by one its way wherever it is that traffic goes when it’s going somewhere and I’m feeling like I may as well get down to it in some sense. I can smell the lake from here and the lake smells good so I’m following the rhythm of where I want to go and I’m actually kind of hoping that it’s leading somewhere good for me. And somewhere along the walk I’m feeling the pull of everything and I’m pretty certain that I feel like I’m dealing with a scar of some sort. Only thing is that I really don’t know what the scar is or precisely where it is and I guess I’m kind of almost a bit upset about that. I don’t know. 

But not really. Not actually upset. Just a little bit confused and maybe more than a little bit disoriented. I get a call. They tell me to meet them, but they don’t want me to meet them at the beach, so I guess I’m ignoring them. And that probably wouldn’t be a good idea, so I tell them that I’ll meet them where they ask to meet me. Not like it wouldn’t be the first time that I hadn’t kept an appointment with them so not exactly like it’ll be a surprise to them. There’s a part of me that wonders whether or not they know me to know enough that I’m not going to show up just by the way that I tell them I am. Like it’s something in the way that I write the text when indexed against how quickly I respond to them. Or something like that. I don’t know. 

But if they know that I’m not showing up then they would probably know to look for me at the beach. Not sure why, but I figure that if they’re that aware of me and who I am I guess I should probably think in terms of them maybe even knowing a little bit more about me than even I do and that seems to be more than a little bit scary to me. I don’t know.

I know that I’m going to the beach, though . . . only not the beach. I  just want to go down to the lake. And anyway I think it might be a little too early to make it to the beach anyway. I think it might be closed for a couple more hours.

Still . . . it might not be a bad idea to at least go out and check, right? I mean what could it hurt? Well . . . in any case, I AM walking the blocks between here and the lake and it really feels a lot like I might have in some way lost something. I’m not sure what it was that I would have lost, but I think that maybe I can work that out on the walk. I don’t know. We’ll see anyway. . . the way we always seem to see at the last possible moment, but I’m thinking that we will probably almost definitely see in some sense, right? What could it possibly hurt to check?

I’m stalling. I know for a fact that I’m stalling. There’s something that doesn’t feel quite right today. But it’s not like you can back out of going through with the day. I mean . . . you could just sort of decide not to do anything but it’s like that old song. . .  you decide not to so something and you’re kind of deciding to do nothing. I think that’s the way that goes, but I’m not absolutely certain. I don’t know. Sounds kind of like trivia, actually. Could be worse, but I’m pretty sure that I’m getting a little bit mixed up here.

So I think that yes . . . I want to go to the lake I should go to the lake, right? I mean that’s what I want to do. That’s what my instincts tell me to do. So maybe I’ll find some way of making some kind of money or getting some kind of work when I get out there, right? Could be worse, but I’m not exactly certain how and I don’t exactly know why but I know that I’m going to need some kind of reassurance that something is going to go right in someway. And if I’m going to go to the lake than at the very least I’m following my idea to go to the lake and that’s some kind of direction at least, right? Isn’t it? Maybe not. I don’t know. 

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