Wednesday

Emma just sent me a letter asking me to come back home and forget all of this college foolishness.

I told her not to worry, I’d be home soon.

Friday

We used to go driving back then. We would just drive for what seemed like hours in the country side. It seemed as if it were only an autumn ritual. The leaves were all different shades of orange and red. And we’d speed down the middle of the road, kicking up leaves as we went along. The sky always seemed to be some shade of grey, just on the verge of raining.

Henry would always drive, he had the best car out of all of us and we’d each take turns sitting in the front seat. He’d put the top down and the chilly autumn wind would be blowing all around us and it seemed as if the only thing you could hear was the radio playing in the background. The car would climb up the hills along the old dirt roads and in these moments I would stick my head out, right when the wind was the strongest. My hair would blow and I’d squint my eyes and I’d hear you guys in the back seat laughing over the rush of wind.

I can’t even remember us not being happy.

Thursday

Do you remember that old lake we used to go to? I’m sure you do, we met there one summer, your parents rented a lake house down the road from my families.

You don’t remember do you?

No it’s ok, it was a while ago anyways.

Well I know you don’t remember but we went swimming one time late one summer night. The moon was hidden behind the grey clouds and we made our way towards the lake,
stepping softly to avoid making any sound that would interrupt the echoing silence.

They were already swimming when we got there. We heard their laughter as we got closer, short and muffled in the darkness. Henry was there and so was Francis and his girlfriend, but I can’t seem to remember her name. We stripped down to our bathing suits and made our way to the lake.

We both stood on the dock; I wrapped my toes around the edge and felt the rough grooves of the wood. I glanced at you. Your hair was covering your face but I could still see you smiling.

The clouds drifted away from the moon and we could now see the glimmer of the white moon light as it reflected off of the waves of the water. Henry, Francis, and his girlfriend were treading water a ways off of the dock. They stared up at us, smiling.

Jump! they yelled.

Is it cold? you asked.

Francis splashed water towards us and we jumped back.

Francis! you yelled, laughing.

I backed up a bit and began to run. I jumped, closed my eyes, and dove into the water. It was cold and I tried to drift as far as possible until I had to come up for air. I popped up just in time to see you jump in.

We swam until we were worn out and laid on the dock. I couldn’t tell if anyone was awake, and I closed my eyes and felt the soft summer night’s breeze and I could hear the soft rattle of the leaves in the trees all around us.

God how I wish these fantasy nights were real.

Saturday

It’s snowing now, the first of the winter. The snowflakes fall slowly and I can feel them on the back of my neck as I walk down the street. The street lights arch overhead and the soft lights feel like warmth in the dark sky.

A year ago today we first met.

If you squint your eyes and look pass the glow of the street lights you can see the stars. Only barely twinkling in the distant night sky.

How could I have messed it up so badly?

I close my eyes and I imagine an old musician sitting next to a building in the distance. His eyes are closed and he’s playing a song on his saxophone. He doesn’t care if anyone is listening or not. The sound floats through the air twisting and twirling as it dodges the small white flakes of falling snow until it finally reaches my ears. It feels as though the music and the street lights are all the warmth that I can feel right now, but I squint my eyes.

Tuesday

What I’ve always wanted is to have a surprise birthday party.

I had one when I was younger with my friends Ben and Alex, and it was great, don’t get me wrong, but the one I’ve always imagined is one where a bunch of people are there. I’ll walk up the stairs one day, slowly and quietly, I’ll hear a noise, a quite muffled laugh followed by a shush. I’ll stop on the stairs and listen, and then I’ll smile, realizing what’s going on.

I open the door slowly and inside is everyone I know and care about. They all stand up and shout “SURPRISE!” and I laugh and act surprised. I can’t stop smiling now. People are coming up to me and giving me hugs and telling me how happy they are for me. I don’t know what to say after a while, all I can do is smile because it all just seems surreal.

Hanging under the rafters are strings of those Japanese lights. You don’t remember do you? Your mother bought them for that party she had last summer at the lake house. In the corner of the room the record player plays slowly. “This Must Be the Place” comes on and someone turns it up. It’s loud now and everyone begins dancing. We’re swapping dance partners and everyone is laughing. Everyone is just so happy to be here, together. I turn and watch you out of the corner of my eye. You spin in and out, your hair covering your face, and I catch a slight smile on your lips.

The song ends and I make my way onto the roof. It’s cold and I can see the faint glimmer of stars above the glow of the city lights. “Canadian Girl” plays loudly downstairs. I close my eyes and take it all in. It all seems so surreal.

Sunday

It’s cold and the fluorescent lights reflect on the linoleum floor.

When you walk in the doors just keep walking straight, and to your right there will be an advertisement. It’s nothing you would notice unless you turned and looked directly at it. It’s for Converse and in it is a picture of a girl with really light blonde hair with a grey dress on and she’s holding a basketball in her hands as she laughs. It’s as though someone just out of eye sight tossed her the ball and she caught it just in time. She turns and laughs and, just then, the picture is taken.

I carry a walkie talkie when I’m at work. I pick it up when I walk in and carry it in my pocket all day. Throughout the day I hear people asking where items are or calling for help at the checkouts. It’s nothing that you would notice, just a steady noise I listen to as I work.

Every night I turn on the news and fall asleep to the low drone of CNN.

It’s really late at night, well I guess early in the morning, and the TV is still on in my room. It’s the background noise that soothes me. Floating through the air and I half listen as I close my eyes.

She’s wearing grey and she’s facing the other direction. The sun is shining and it’s so bright I have to squint my eyes. Where are those glasses she always wears? Never mind.

Hey Emma think fast!

I toss the ball lightly, making sure it arches in the air. She turns and catches the ball before it hits the ground, and then she begins to laugh.

Tuesday

Sometimes late at night, after I've turned out my light, I lay with my hands behind my head and stare at my ceiling.

I've always been fascinated with outer space. Something about it just excites me. I love staring out constellations, even though I can only find Orion. Ive always thought about buying a whole bunch of those glow in the dark star kits, you know the ones where you can stick a piece of tape to the back and put on your ceiling? I imagine myself spending the summer in my room organizing hundresds of stars and planets on my ceiling, like a modern day Michelangelo of the stars. I'd work days organizing just one section of the night sky on my ceiling, and when I was finally done I'd turn out my light, and lay in my bed and just stare in wonder at the night sky, one that I had created.

Sometimes I can hear the sound of the train that passes by fairfield from my house. It toots its horn letting all know that it is passing through, and if all is quiet, the noise is distant but distinct to my ears. I can picture it. I can picture it so easily because I've sat at the railroad tracks as the train passed by, watching from my car. I read the box cars as they pass by and try to decipher the graffitti as it rushes by.

One time, a few years ago I was watching t.v. I had stumbled across a movie on some channel with Nicholas Cage in it. I can't remember the name but the scene that I remember best is one where Nicholas Cage and his friend are waiting at night time. They stand by a railroad track and a train rushes by. They both count to three and jump on to one of the many ladders hanging of the side of the boxcars and ride the train. They laugh as the wind blows in their faces. It was absolutely incredible and a little bit ridiculous.

I've always thought about doing that. Not necessarily riding the train for laughs, but jumping on that train that runs by fairfield. I'd ride in a boxcar to where ever the train heads to. I'd meet so many interesting people, and after a few years hitch hiking around the country and having great adventures I'd find somewhere nice, maybe in Canada or around the great lakes where I can expeirience a real autumn and winter. There I'd write the next great American novel. It'd all be about my travels and the oddball things that happened. The book would be an instant classic and I would never have to worry about money for the rest of my life. My wife and I would grow old and I'd spend my days writing books that would never be as good as my first, but I'd be happy.

And that ladies and gentlemen is how I wish my life would turn out, even though it is semi ridiculous.