"You got me runnin' goin' out of my mind
You got me thinkin' that I'm wastin' my time"
I skidded around another corner.
I had never felt better in my life.
I collectively spun a little tray with candles on it, kind of like manipulating a ouja board, with other females as part of a Hindu wedding ceremony. We all had our hands on it, while we watched Alec's sister get married.
I drove to my mom's to take her south to the beach. Little kids sold bottled water in the street, while their dad sat in the MARTA bus shelter.
"Here comes the story of the Hurricane.
The man the authorities came to blame.
For something that he never done.
Put in a prison cell, but one time he could a been,
the champion of the world."
I pushed the gas.
The Mississippi radio hated Kaepernick and loved Jesus. I looked for some more old Rod Stewart on the radio, the good ones, those old romantic songs.
"I need your help. Do you remember me? I was your student."
I flew south from Connecticut.
We sat at Refuge Coffee, rain pouring down outside while I tried to fix everything that I knew I could not. It rained really hard.
"You thick!"
I smiled and nodded.
"You sweet too!"
"You just have to pull your butt cheeks apart, sand won't go up there!" the lady to my right let me know as I sat at the shore of the Georgian Atlantic.
Alec's brother showed up with pounds of chanterelles he had picked from a swamp full of alligators and snakes, a bottle of nice olive oil and a baguette. We ate the feast at a log cabin on the ocean, surrounded by oaks whose branches reached toward the ground instead of the sky, some clinging with Spanish moss.
"I'm not having a mid-life crisis, I already had that, the rental people gave me that car!" he exclaimed, motioning to the rental Charger beside the log cabin.
He gunned the engine and tore out, just to make us laugh.
*Lyrics, Don't Bring Me Down, ELO
**Lyrics, The Hurricane, Bob Dylan
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