Lazy

This is an old piece of writing that crossed my mind a few days ago.  I miss the days when things like this just popped into my head.  I'm hoping it will come back.

Lazy

We went to the beach yesterday at sunset, the first time we left the house all day. The air was clean and sweet in our damaged lungs, and we smiled at the smell of saltwater on the breeze (we're so lucky to live here).



One person approached us wanting a cigarette (sorry, man, don't have any), another for marijuana (naw, dude, it's not me that has it...yeah, I smell it too) and we went into a little shop for something warm to sip on (two large cappuccinos and this candy necklace. thanks). We were lazy and had fuzzy heads from drinking and smoking too much the night before. Our steps were slow and heavy as we walked out to the end of the pier. Everyone else was walking in, as if the show was over - but it wasn't. They just weren't looking in the right place. People rarely do.


We held hands and stared down at the water, both of us thinking about the little boy who should have been with us, and the little girl who lives only in our imaginations for now. Her dark wavy hair and green eyes are always in the back of my mind, especially when I look at his blonde curly hair and bright blue eyes. He looks so much like his mom that it makes me want to cry sometimes.


It has turned chilly, and I was bundled up in a sweater under a sweatshirt and a beanie covering my newly-short hair. I could feel the wind caressing the back of my neck with chilly fingers, and your fingers even colder as you slipped them under my shirt to stroke my belly. The surfers below us were starting to go in, one by one, as it got darker and darker.


You started a drumbeat on my shoulders (ready to go? yeah - let's go) and we turned and walked back to the car with our arms around each other, swaying slightly on the uneven boards.