To Be Next To Her

As Much As Some People Would Like To Believe, For Their Own Peace Of Mind, That The Appearance Of Evil In This World Had A Clean Cause, The Truth Was Never That Simple.

If I Scribbled A Few Words On A Cocktail Napkin And Showed It To My Family, They'd Proclaim It Astonishing And More Culturally Relevant Than The Bible.

It Was What Accidental Deaths Did To People, Made Everybody's Sea Floor Irregular And Uneven, Causing Tidal Currents To Collide, Surge Upward, Thereby Resulting In Small Yet Volatile Eddies Churning At Everybody's Surface. (in The More Dangerous Cases, It Created A Lasting Whirlpool In Which The Strongest Swimmers Could Drown.)

She Told Me Her Father Taught Her To Live Life Way Beyond The Cusp Of It, Way Out In The Outer Reaches Where Most People Never Had The Guts To Go, Where You Got Hurt. Where There Was Unimaginable Beauty And Pain ... They Were Always Reminding Themselves To Stop Measuring Life In Coffee Spoons, Mornings And Afternoons, To Keep Swimming Way, Way Down To The Bottom Of The Ocean To Find Where The Mermaids Sang, Each To Each. Where There Was Danger And Beauty And Light. Only The Now.

God, The Boring Relative Everyone Ignores--no One Calls, No One Writes--until They Need A Serious Favor.