Again, this, like my last post was written when the country was in a state of fear. I was backpacking around Florida and had decided to use a pool at an apartment complex I was walking by. DEEP BREATH Washer dryer sets, bed sets and box frames, large metal boxes sitting on the side of a road outside a apartment complex. There could be an explosive device hidden in the bottom of one of those discarded washers. Says a guy into his radio, “All right, ten minutes!” He is part of six man FBI team posing as city workers all pretending to be putting up a gate while they sift through the large pile of household debris . If there is a hidden “dirty-nuke” there is no escape. A helicopter hovers overhead. It is very close, very low, just over the treetops. It has gone into silent mode. Between now and . . . ooh, shit! What was that? A big low sounding B-O-O-M! The wind has picked up. I am going in the pool. But how long can I hold my breath? Would the “fall out” pass over before I drown? Up, it must be over already. Yes, I am dead and only think I know it. People on the opposite side of the pool, they’re lips are moving, bubbling-blurb sounds, it’s a song, angel lingo that I do not understand yet. 11:40 minutes/seconds without tiring or thinking but without a warm up and just after swimming ten minutes of hard-core underwater laps going all the way across the pool. 13:37 Bile coming to the top of my throat, I don’t want to stop. Slightly heavier breathing. Increased speed with pen as I write. 14:51 Hand cramping. 15:09 I’m thinking of my brother and father. How family is most important. Vision is blurring arms are tight. First signs of the coming sweat are at the back-bottom of my neck: 18:52 Deep Breath.
Posted on: Fri, 07 Jun 2013 15:13:35 +0000
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