This Space Intentionally Left Blank

What nourishes me,  also destroys me.

Think about it.

A glance out the window shows that nothing has changed. The sky still spitting tiny droplets, the lake still choppy and gray. So cold. It’s almost time to go, but the destination is not home. It’s a place that’s even worse. The parents urge everyone into the uncomfortable SUV. There’s just enough time to slip out a cell phone and bitch about the situation to someone at home.

“Stop what you’re doing,” I managed to say.

The room stood still, awaiting the next words out of my mouth. The faint hum of a computer’s processor could be heard. The room felt chilly.

“I have an idea,” I then proclaimed.

The occupants of the room tossed their hands up in glee. The room filled with raucous applause.

A cracked door in a nondescript building yields the view of five men gathered around a table littered with Jack in the Box taco wrappers and curly fries. A bright fluorescent light shines above them. It is enough to let someone peer in.

“So, everybody, the purpose of this meeting is to find a great new scheme to gain something that I haven’t decided yet. So, I’ve gathered the brain trust to brainstorm some ideas. Come on, people!”

This, of course, causes the volume in the room to rise.

“Lets steal shit that we can then sell on ebay!”

“No, lets kill them in various gory and disgusting ways!”

“The plan I have concocted involves a can of WD-40, a rubber duck, a cheap digital camera from a convenience store, three rolls of duct tape and a shitload of luck.”

“You idiots! We have to use a can of coke and a bag of pop rocks, combine them to create a concoction of death and destruction, scatter assorted marshmallow snacks and pornography to distract the guards before making our way to glory and rescuing the princess!”

A silence fills the room for a split second.

“I swear, it’s always the same ideas with you people.”

The fabric lightly catches against my calluses. And leaves them warmed from the friction.

I miss Taylor Ann Medina.