Sunset Fog

1. It is summer in a dead-end town. There’s not much good to say about that. I have been spending a lot of time at the community center pool. The lifeguards at the pool are all ugly so it’s kind&

I had this favorited on twitter for awhile. It came to me via one of the editors of thehairpin.com. And it’s one those weird twists of fate that I don’t know what about a seemingly innocuous tweet had me favorite it. Or why of hundreds of favorited tweets I bothered to go back and read this one, especially when it comes from a publication I’m not particularly interested in (everything about Rookie Mag seems a bit twee to me?). But I read the fiction enclosed in that link and spent the better part of the half an hour it took me to read the piece on my ipad (I am a slow reader) fighting back tears. I finished it and put my hands up to my face and said, out loud, to no one in particular because only the dog is here, “Holy Crap”, in that exasperated sigh sort of way. 

Again, winds of fate and all that had I read that piece of fiction a month ago it may not have spoken to me. Or spoken to me in that longing of “Wouldn’t that be a really nice thing to have?” and “Isn’t that some exceptional writing?”, but not much beyond that. Instead it hits all these really soft parts of me that are exposed right now and I find it incredibly relatable in the explanation of her feelings and how things can be all at once not new experiences and completely new experiences and I find myself gutted by fiction. Which hasn’t happened in a really long time. 

Now I’m gonna go take a long walk and clear my brain and try not to be an emotional wreck in a few hours when I need not to be and try and convince everyone that I’m still some of the snarky badass I used to pretend to be and not all exposed soft underbelly like I currently feel I am. And probably grab a drink because that feels essential.