This morning's writing

I’d expected it to be quiet here, but that’s not the case. Birds, bees, dogs, all of nature’s kingdom. A whole lot of chipping and chirping. And the ocean across the highway: folding and unfolding, beauty that conceals the sinister, sharks and shit. I don’t trust water. I’ve lived in California my entire life, but the coastline has never done much for me. If pressed, I’ll tell you I like lakes. Contained, easier to navigate. But still. Fuck water. It depresses me.

 

So why am I here if I’m so suspicious of it all? Aren’t I supposed to be impressed, taken? Rob is, I can tell. And Po? He could live here. Then again, my dog could live anywhere so long as there was kibble and the opportunity to eat his own ass. He’s easy like that.

 

I’m here because the softer part of me believes in magic.