Thoughts Of Us, My Friend

I thought of us this morning as I stood and studied the early morning commuters outside my window, how they rushed and risked lives to gain a measly car length. How sad.

Leon Creek came to mind. And our day-long fishing trips. We were what? Ten? Eleven? It was the summer before you discovered girls and I discovered boys. So much innocence. We swam naked and peed in front of each other without hesitation. We fished for perch. I always threw mine back, and you swore you caught the very same one.

We laughed at everything and nothing.

I thought of marbles. How we dug shallow holes in the ground in the shape of a baseball diamond and flicked cat-eyes into them. Winner keeps the marbles! you yelled before each match. We had favorites we didn’t dare chance losing. Yours were the blue ones, mine the golden brown, the same color as your eyes and skin.

We fought over little green plastic soldiers and giggled hysterically over an Ouija board.

We rode on the handlebars of each other’s bikes. You taught me how to patch my inter-tubes with a kit from a tin box.

We ran shirtless under heavy thunderstorms, the raindrops pelting us unmercifully, leaving small red marks on our shoulders and arms.

When we found your dad’s porn, you instinctively took an interest. I didn’t understand your fascination.

We had a way of sneaking past our mothers as they gossiped over the fence. They could not contain us. They stopped trying.

Then we lost touch. Where ever you are, I hope it’s not stuck in traffic. That’s just not you either.

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