The Blog Post That Won’t Get to the Point

I stare out at the rolling waves—dark blue and grey, framed by puffs of white foam. The incident fills my mind, my heart, my soul. I remember the bloodstains, the screaming, the horror in Aunt Jane’s eyes… 

Something nudges my hand—a tiny green crab. I watch as it scuttles away toward the surf. Then, something white swoops down upon it and carries it up, up, into the air toward the whisps of clouds—a seagull with arching wings like boomerangs and a golden beak like a dagger. It reminds me of how fragile life is, how things can change in a blink, a breath, a sigh… One moment you are happy, the next moment you are a seagull’s lunch. This is life and death and death and life spinning in a great circle like a pinnwheel. 

Once again, that dark day fills my mind… the day my life changed forever…

The memory of aspestos scent fills my nose along with the image of that awful dark yellow shag carpet. Why had I come to Aunt Jane’s trailer that day? Why hadn’t I canceled? I didn’t even like Aunt Jane. If anyone deserved such a horrible fate, it was her. And yet…

I shudder as my memories trail on and on like an ellipses… the red rug over the shag carpet… Why did Aunt Jane put a rug over carpet? The man with the alligator face… What an awful man… What did Aunt Jane see in him? Could she see the blackness in his heart?

Memories of screams filled my ears… the blood staining the yellow carpet like ketchup on mustard… It made me hungry for justice. How could I ever be the same after that? How could anyone?

The sun beats down on me as I sit on the sand reflecting on how things have changed in my life since that day. My skin reddens and cracks and peels. I should have applied sunscreen this morning. Then again, there is so much I should have done. There are so many things we all SHOULD do… So why don’t we?

Children laugh somewhere in the distance, I see them running, playing, kicking up droplets of surf. Do they know pain? Regret? I didn’t either before the incident. 

Sand sparkles on my bare toes. My red flip-flops lay beside me-twisted and broken like my soul. I want to replace them, but everything is so expensive these days with inflation… It’s best to make do. 

I am making do with so many emotions now. The electric company charged me a late-fee, the whipped cream on my latte melted before I could drink it, I couldn’t find my charger this morning. Will I ever know happiness? How can I when my skin hurts to touch?

Perhaps I should leave this sandy paradise and get away from the sun’s brutal rays… but I came here to reflect on the incident that changed me. Which incident was it now? 

Something about ketchup and mustard… My stomach rumbles as images of hotdogs fill my mind. I will leave the grasping rays of this scorching sun and satisfy my hunger. 

Later today, I will be hungry again, and after that hungry again still. Is there any point in anything? Is there any point in reflecting thus? Is there any point in this blog? 

I sigh… I do not know…