2003-09-07 || 1:50 a.m.

|| state park restrooms. ||

last night we were camping in a redwood forest. kelly and chris were lost in the hills while o and i sipped at a bottle of rum bought from a tavern in town and sat at a picnic table playing scrabble. we were wearing coats and squinting at the sunset cutting through trees and brush and taking swallows after each word was placed on the board. we're getting old. we were talking about this. referring to the early twenties as very young and worrying about the future and detecting all the changes that have settled on us like dust, like wrinkles. imperceptible and quiet and then showing themselves dramatically in the harsh light of anonymous state park restrooms.

(later kel and i were in the state park restroom getting ready to go to bed. a ten-year-old looking girl stood beside me watching me brush my teeth in that mouth slightly open and hair all frizzy type way. i smiled at her and she amiled a half-beat too late, stepping back into shadow so as not to be too obvious. i went into one of the stalls and my sister was at the sink brushing her teeth and i could tell the girl was still there. she made a comment to her mum about forgetting her towel and having to wipe her face with her jacket, and kell told her she could use my towel. i don't know why but i wanted so badly for her to use my towel to wipe extra toothpaste off her face. kelly said she didn't.)

previous || next || random

guestbook || notes || archives || profile || photos || d-land

Site Meter