Here I am multi-tasking, again, my brain has the checklist, while my body is trying to keep up, as I tighten the trash bag knot, and step beyond the threshold to the garage. It’s then I see it, leaning against the wall.
In an instant, excitement stirs me; changing my demeanor from mundane to a little girl on Christmas morning. Lifting the trash bin lid, I drop the bag into the dark green pit, letting the lid slam down, as I turn on heel to look back at the thin square box. Is that the one, the one I have been waiting for? The one I forgot I was waiting for? I marvel at the box for a moment before whisking it away inside.
Turning the door knob, I step back into the warmth of home, and delicately lay the box on the kitchen counter. My body is giddy and I have lost all control in thinking logically, that I have to stop myself for a moment to regain consciousness of my present. While my mind races to find the knife drawer, my body jerks in directions to keep up with it. Silver blades stare at me as I select the littlest weapon, turn the blade down, making my first slit in the tape that secured my package for a safe delivery. One tug and another, I pull back the cardboard with arm force. Layer by layer, the gift starts to reveal itself. Pull, slit, marvel, slit, pull, carefully unwrapping until it’s starring back at me.
One print he told me, choose only one. Instantly, I had three in mind and narrowed my captures down to this one. This one that has a story to tell. One that, as I look at it now, I am taken back to the day.
As the sun began its final decent to the horizon and colors filled the sky, I searched the beach for something to accessorize the scene. I see it, as water rushes to shore, I know I must roll up my jeans to get close. While holding my water bottle and flipflops in one hand, I squat low to the sand, and with the other hand I drop my phone lens close to the object to focus, hoping the next wave won’t come too soon. Click, click. I see the freshwater rushed to shore, just as I pull my phone from the sand, while one pant leg falls into the water. I struggle for a moment to reach for the jean, toggling the rest of the objects in my hands, hoping no one was looking as I tried to balance. Lucky I avoided a first world devastation, keeping everything but the pant leg dry, while Lake Michigan slid back into itself.