Thursday, April 3, 2003
My shoes were just slightly wet, but still noticeably so. I had walked through uncut wet grass back towards home from the bay where I had been watching stars, listening to the meek tide of the bay and the loud tide of cars moving across US 41. Ambling home, not wearing socks. The insoles of my sneakers felt slick - and the touch brought the memorey of similar touches to the cinematic screen of my drunk mind. I was in middle school and sloshing through the creek by my house, feeling the slick insoles of my shoes, the gross sewage water passing between my foot and the rubber of my shoe, of walking through rain in various towns, feet slipping around inside shoes trying to escape the rain. The memories of these, the reliving of all these moments occured in that one brief half of an instant, and I squeezed my eyes tight with glee trying to hold on to it, trying to prolong the moment. It is moments like these I live for.
at 6:17 PM