Chat With the Boss

"See something interesting?" A grainy voice calls out to us. I look up to see a medium build boss. He wears a white, short sleeve work shirt with a tie. " Are you reporters?" He asks us. " We're nothing of the sort." I assure him. " You still don't have clearance to be here." He says as he attempts to yank us off the ground. Olivia quickly opens up her palm and fires a couple of hearts into his chest. The boss immediately unhands us. " I'm sorry, but it's just not safe for you to be here." He says warmly. "Where should we go?" Olivia asks. "I'll take you to my office. We can talk." The boss turns and ushers us to follow. I lean to Olivia. " Has that ever worked that well before?" "No, but I'm not complaining." She replies. The boss leads us down the catwalk and to a break room on the ground floor. "Ta da!" He shouts with his arms outstretched in the center of the room. Olivia and I look on in bewilderment. Maybe he is joking. I mean there are tables and a coffee maker. There's even a time clock. "This is your office?" Olivia asks. "Oh yeah. So much better than my dinky old office. Much more space." "Won't everyone be pissed?" I ask.  " I don't see why they would. They don't eat, they don't sleep, so I might as well take full advantage of this space." "Did you just say they don't eat or sleep?" I inquire. " Yeah or pretty much any other body function."  The boss walks over to the coffee maker. " You guys want coffee? I'm gonna make coffee." I rush over to the coffee maker. " How does the work?" I ask, trying to pry deeper. " It's easy. First you fill the pitcher with water then -" "No, I mean how do they survive without food or sleep?" The boss laughs to himself. "Fuck if I know." Olivia chimes in. " We're very confused. People need to sleep and eat."  "But they're not people." He says bluntly. The boss continues to fill the pitcher with water as if that was nothing. "Now, how do you guys want your coffee?"

The Factory

The sounds of the marching workers grow fainter. It' enough to drive us forward though, and if we can not catch up with them? No problem.  We would just be right back were we started. But we keep going along the old, gravel path kicking stones here and there as we walk. One can almost here the clop clop of horse hoofs.  An ancient memory that still seems nearby on this dusty trail. The trail makes a wide turn and goes up a steep hill. At the very top of this hill is a massive gothic factory.  It's color is charcoal black. All of the small windows are cracked and broken. There are several chimneys that puff thick, black smoke into the sky. " This looks like a welcoming place." I say to Olivia as I open the creaky gate leading up to the factory. We carefully open the front door. It's loud squeaking is hushed by the sounds of buzzing, sawing, and hammering. As soon as we step foot in the factory, there is a narrow, metal ladder. We climb to the top to find ourselves on a catwalk that overlooks all the workers. Some are welding, some are machinists. All are toiling away. " I don't think I could ever do that." I tell Olivia. " You mean you don't want to? Or you physically can't?" She asks. " Both. Don't get me wrong, I have a lot of respect for anyone who can do this day after day..." " But?" She says trying to pull words out of my mouth. " But its so physically demanding. I don't know. Maybe I'm just lazy." Olivia shakes me. "Snap out of if. You're right they probably are under appreciated, but that doesn't make you lazy because you would never consider doing that line of work." I nod my head and continue to stare at the workers. " Besides..." She continues. "If you really want to go down that road you could say we are under appreciated." I turn my head to Olivia. She smiles with her eyes, knowing that I have her full attention now. "We have seen a lot of weird shit. No one will ever be able to fully comprehend that. Even if we were to somehow fully explain everything." She states. "You're right." "But that's ok. You know why?" "Because in those situations I like to think of Christopher Walken's character in Seven Psychopaths. You know what line I'm thinking of?" I grin. "Yeah I do. "Fuck 'em."

Sounds of Marching

A loud stomping, marching noise can be heard  nearby. The parading sound of an invading army perhaps? "Do you think they're coming this way?" Olivia asks. "They're probably on a nearby road, but we should move anyways." We jolt up from the rock and take cover in the the thick of the forest. We soon find out that we are not running away from the marching sounds, but rather towards it. The forest thins out. We are now ahead of the marchers. I look down the trail and can faintly see the army. Out of time, and having now where to hide, Olivia and I lay down in the mud. We are pretty low to the ground, so as long as they don't look to the side, we are clear. The marching is ever so close now. I lift my head up slightly. Just enough that I can see. I realize they are not an army at all. They are some sort of workers. They all wear yellow safety vests. " What kind of union makes their workers march in unison?" Olivia whispers. " I don't know, but they're not human." "What?" "Look closely at them?" I tell her. The workers have square, box like figures. Almost as if they were made out of bricks, and their skin is bright yellow. After the workers pass us completely, I wait for a moment before picking myself and Olivia off the ground. I walk out onto the path, and look down the long trail road. I then turn to Olivia. "Let's see where they're going."

Muddy Shoes and Tired Feet

I rest on a rock and scrape the mud off my shoes. " I'm surprised they let us go." I say to Olivia. "What do you mean?" " They locked me up, but then they left. It was like something a cheesy villain does out of a B movie." Olivia sits down next to me. "You weren't a threat." She exclaims. I take a slight offense at that. "They knew the best way to get to you was to leave you alone for a while." She continues. " What about you? You could have been a threat?" Olivia shakes her head. "No, they knew I wouldn't follow because I would go back for you." I look down at my feet. My shoes are still caked in mud. " Did you figure this out yourself?" I ask. "Yep." Olivia rests her head on my shoulder. "What do you want to do now?" She asks. "Honestly, I just want to rest for a while." "I was hoping you'd say that."

The Guiding Light

It's a dewy morning out on the peninsula. Our boat is still crashed against the rocks. " You think it's fixable?" Olivia asks. " Probably, I wouldn't know the first thing about it though." The  light from the house shines through the fog. I squint my eyes. One could probably see that for miles. " Where did they go?" I ask. "They wanted to follow the guiding light."  "The guiding light?" Olivia points to the ocean. There, I faintly see the light stretching out into the horizon. I stare at the wreckage and wonder how we can get there. " I have no clue how to fix it." I reiterate. "That's ok." She says, looking out into the ocean. " Really?" Olivia nods, still looking off into the distance. " Yeah, maybe that path is not for us." Olivia turns and begins walking towards the land.  " Where you going?" I  shout out to her. "It's a place you'll like."  I carefully follow her along the rocky peninsula. Some of the stones start to shift under our feet. But we make it back to the land without any scrapes or bruises. All we have to do is walk slowly.  It was actually nice to go from the slimy, slippery rocks to the muddy soil. Never thought I would welcome mud so much. " Well, here it is." Olivia says in a melancholic tone. "What's wrong?" I ask. "This is the tree that brought us here." It is the same tree. It's branches still lean towards the ocean. Except now it is bare and dark black from the rain. There is but one leaf on the tree. I pick it off the branch and it crumbles in my palm immediately. Olivia looks down in disappointment. " All I wanted to do was show you something pretty." I lift her face gently and take off her mask. I look deep into her saddened eyes. "You did. You always do. Thank you."

Blinding Light

The main room of the lighthouse is fully illuminated. The light is so bright it appears white. Olivia and I cover our eyes and look away. "What is that?" I shout.  "I think they used the diamond for a light." "What?" "Yeah, they were talking about using it." The light is so bright that I have to turn my back completely. " Did they know it would be this bright?" I ask. " No, I think it was just something that they wanted to try." I feel for the stair railing. " I don't  think we should be in here." I say. " I agree. I feel like  my retinas will burst into flames." I extend my arm out to Olivia. " Take my hand."
"Where are you?" " Follow my voice." I instruct her. My eyes are closed tightly. I can hear her footsteps nearing.  "You're almost there." I shout to her. I feel a hand on my arm. I grab her tightly and pull her in. "I don't want to open my eyes till I'm at least halfway down the stairs." She insists. Ironically, that is most likely the safest advice right now.

Breakout

The bars don't exist, yet they do. They appear to me as transparent objects. Slightly more visible than a holographic image. I try and touch them. They are not solid objects, but an intense pressure keeps my hands from running through them. Olivia walks into the room. She holds a T.V. dinner plate. "I brought some food." She says to me. "What is it?" I ask. She cringes as she glances at the barely thawed food. " It's edible." She replies. She walks over to my cell and places the food on the floor. She pushes the tray and it slides under tiny opening in my cell. Unfortunately, she pushes the tray just a little too hard and it slides under the cot. "Sorry." She shouts out. I reach under the cot and grab a biscuit. " That's ok. I have a feeling this is the only thing on there that I should be eating." I take a bite out of the biscuit. " How does it taste?" Olivia asks. I shrug. " 'Bout what one would expect from a T.V. dinner." I take another bite and try to enjoy this cold biscuit as best I can. " So, you can see the bars ,right?" I ask. Olivia nods. "Barely."  " I can  barely see them too, but they're there." "You ready to leave?" She asks me. " I was ready the minuet I entered."  "Then let's go." "How?" " Just walk through," She says simply and casually. " I can't just do that." I insist, while staring at the bars. " Yes you can." "There is some sort of force field pushing me back."  Olivia looks me directly in the eye. "I'm sure there is, but you staying in your cell will only make the bars stronger." "Then what do I do?" I ask.  Olivia puts her arm through the bars. " Take my hand." She tells me. I stand in awestruck for a moment, admiring her ability to force her arm into my cell. "Hurry up. This kinda hurts." She shouts. I grab hold of her arm. It felt like time was slowing down as I began my exit. There was a pressure entering my body and pulling me to the floor. However, the more I was out, the better I began to feel. Until, eventually I was completely out of the cell, and the heavy pressure left my body. Olivia takes a deep breath. " I told you you could get out."

The Interview

As I pass by Olivia on my way to the interviewing room she holds up her hand and whispers " I got her."  This is a relief. It should make the process slightly less painful. However, depending on the subject's level of resistance to the hearts, the effects could last anywhere from a couple of days to a few moments. Meaning I can not push my luck with this. No snarky comments. Just go with the flow. "Have a seat." She says in a warm, welcoming voice. I sit on the only place I can. On a narrow, green cot. Pieces of wood jut out. It's hard to imagine Bernard sleeps on this nightly. It's not just the cot either. The whole room feels uncomfortable. It's a small room with no windows. The only light shines from desk lamp. Bernard's desk is literally only a matter of inches from his cot. If I were to stand up, my knees would bang into his desk. It was not easy or fun trying to fit two people into this dark, narrow, stone wall bedroom. But this is his home. Maybe he is just used to it. " Reason for visiting?" The farmer asks while sitting behind the desk with her hands folded. " To seek the unknown." I state. " You could have fooled me." " What's that supposed to mean?" I ask, feeling thrown off. " That's not the impression I got from you." " What impression did you get then?" The farmer leans back as best as she can. " You seem weak and timid. Not the kind of person who would take on a challenge." She says bluntly. "You're wrong." "Ok." She says not believing me. " You are." "Ok." She still doesn't believe me. The farmer opens a drawer and takes something out of it. " Moving on. Your comrade found this. Could you tell me more about it." She opens her hand and reveals the diamond. " It's a diamond." " I know that, but where was it found?" "We found it in the ocean." The farmer looks at me sternly. "What?" I ask. " Diamonds aren't found in the ocean." She tells me. " That's where we found this one." "What was it doing there?" She asks. " I don't know. It was attached to a helmet." The farmer shifts in her seat. " I want you to tell me more about this diamond."  "That's all I know." I insist. The farmer sighs and stares off into space. " Are you ok?" I ask her. " Yeah, just thinking. You can go now." I smile briefly and carefully stand up so as to not knock my knees into the desk. I hear the farmer quickly rummaging through drawers as I begin to turn my back to her. Somehow this does not deter me. As I'm about to exit, she grabs my cape and yanks me back into the room. She leaps over the desk, holds me tight, and sticks a syringe into my arm. Immediately I feel woozy and have to sit down. " What did you do to me?" I ask. " It's for your own good. Trust me." At that moment , I feel an uncontrollable urge to cry. " No, this isn't good." I say in a nervous tone. " What's not." She asks. " I want to cry, but I shouldn't." " Why can't you cry?"  "Because..." I start to explain myself not knowing how to justify my statement. I then take a look around and notice my surroundings have altered. Bars are now in front of me. " Because all the other inmates will beat me." The appearance of the farmer has also altered slightly. She wears a white lab coat and speaks into a tape recorder. "Subject displayed minimal resistance. We will keep a close eye on him. Release date shortly."

Seperated

In an attempt to avoid any form of psychic communication, we were kept separate and interviewed one at a time. I guess they figured we could only communicate psychically if we were sitting next to each other in the same room. Regardless, they are in luck. Any alleged ability that I might have , I wouldn't have the faintest idea how to control. Olivia is being interviewed by the farmer now. I don't know the kind of questions she is being asked. I can only hope that at some point Olivia is able to shoot hearts her way. Turn the tables. I don't think that's far fetched at all. If anything, it is a fun scenario to picture while I sit quietly on the hardwood floor across from Bernard. "This is procedure." He assures me. "Will it be over soon?" I ask. Bernard leans back  in his chair. "I shouldn't say." "Why not?" "Because anything I say you could use to your advantage." Realizing what he had just said, Bernard clenches his fists and bites his lip. " I shouldn't have said that. No, it is much better if we sit in silence and wait."

Why We're Here

Bernard extends his time worn, fragile hands to us. "I'm sure you all know why we're here." He says as warmly as he can. "No, we have no clue." I butt in. The farmer rolls her eyes. "We have to spell out everything for them." " We went grocery shopping. What do you expect us to get out of that other than dinner?" Olivia snaps. "Dinner is nice, but there is a bigger picture." Bernard explains. "What is the bigger picture?" I ask. Bernard smiles with his eyes. "To put it simply, breaking down the barriers." "Metaphoric barriers?" I ask. "No." He responds simply, leaving us in quiet contemplation for a moment. " I don't understand. Do you mean walls?" Olivia asks. Bernard slowly nods. "Walls, monsters, police, anything blocking our path." The farmer whistles. Bernard looks up at her. " Don't you think we're saying a little too much?" Bernard stares blankly at the farmer. " How do you know for sure we can trust them?" Bernard grabs my face and stares deeply into my eyes. After a moment of soul gazing, he does the same thing with Olivia.  "They're fine." He declares after his inspection. " You really think so?" The farmer asks. Bernard  takes a breath. " Are you two hermits by nature?" He inquires. "We are explorers!" I say proudly. Bernard taps his fingers on his armchair. "What's the verdict?" The farmer asks impatiently. Bernard does not respond. " You know, I still don't feel good about them being here." Bernard sighs. "Take them to my office and conduct a test." The farmer rests her hands on our shoulders. "You heard the man." She says yanking us away. "Where are you taking us?" Olivia asks in a worried tone. The farmer eases her grip slightly and smiles menacingly. "Don't worry. We just need to know your backgrounds."

Errands

The world can be mean. At least that's the impression I get from these errands. When we first arrived outside the bank, my initial thought was that she wanted to rob it. I was quick to judge, but it felt logical. No, she was withdrawing from her own account. Not much in there. She only takes out a couple twenties. She lives mostly off the land. Whatever she can't grow or slaughter she's buys at a small town grocery store. They know her by name at the store, greeting her with warms smiles. They leer at Olivia and I though. I guess they don't take too kind to outsiders. This is the instance where the farmer is on our side. She cautions us to wait outside. However, it doesn't feel much better there. All the villagers passing by , stand and glare at us. We're not sure what they are capable of. We stand in anticipation. Praying there is no conflict, but preparing anyways. We stand with our fists clenched for what feels like an eternity. Eventually the farmer walks out to the street carrying a brown grocery bag. "The world can be mean." She says as a matter of fact. She places the groceries in her pick up truck. "Ready to visit our favorite lighthouse worker?"

Pickup Truck

We drive off in a rusted red pick up truck. Most of the paint is chipped away and the muffler sounds God awful. You could hear it from a block away. Olivia sits in the front seat while I ride in the back. That's the kind of guy I am. Letting my girlfriend sit next to someone who might be a homicidal maniac. Damn it! I'm sure she's fine though. She's tough. She can handle herself. Plus I can check in on her through the little window in the back. I try and relax a little bit and enjoy the ride. I find I have to hang on for dear life between the bumpy, gravely road, and all her sharp turns. Other than the massive amount of bruises I might have later, the only thing I can think about is how she could be right. Yes, she got into my head. It doesn't mean that there isn't at least the slightest chance that she could be right though. I mean I'm seeking information on a creepy old man for what? Will it really change anything? What if intuition doesn't really exist? What if it was just the product of someone's imagination at one point? We like to follow these hunches and say to ourselves "this feels right." or "This feels off." So we follow these hunches, or gut feelings , or whatever you want to call them and sometimes we are rewarded favorably. Sometimes it doesn't go well for us. In those instances we say to ourselves " that's because I was supposed to learn so and so." It seems impossible to prove or disprove that statement.  But what if that is just something we tell ourselves to feel better. As grim as it may be, intuition could  be nothing more than a choice, any choice that we make and then stick to... Damn I have stop thinking for a while. I need something to distract me. Fortunately this very sharp turn is making me feel my eggs from this morning. Thankfully, nothing comes up, but I don't feel so hot. The truck stops out side of the town bank. Our first errand.

Human Nature?

Olivia attempts to raise her hand to shoot little pink hearts. The farmer notices right away and fires a warning shot into the air. Debri from the ceiling sprinkles on our heads. " I ain't fooling around. Don't you move." She shouts. "We don't mean any harm." Olivia says. "Then what are you doing here?" " We just wanted to know if you had any information about Bernard."  I say as calmly as I can. " Bernard?"  She repeats back with puzzled look. I sigh. "He's  an older man who lives in a lighthouse." "You mean Charles?" She asks. " It's a long story. He thought Bernard was more fitting." Olivia says. The farmer lowers the shotgun slightly. " I guess that makes sense. A name like Charles don't fit a man like that." Olivia and I both chuckle in agreement. The farmer raises her gun again. "So what do you want to know about him?" "We were just curious." I say with a shaky voice. " Curious eh? Don't you know curiosity killed the cat?" Olivia smiles. "Yes, but knowledge brought it back." The farmer shakes her head and lowers her gun completely. " Not a lot of people know the second half of that saying. I like you know that." "Thank you." Olivia replies. The farmer still clutches the shotgun, but it is now positioned to the ground. " I don't know what you want to hear. It's not like a he's sage or anything. Even if he were it wouldn't make a difference." "Why would you say that?" I ask. The farmer rolls her eyes. "What?" I ask, still not getting it. She takes a deep breath. " Shit, even if he had all the answers to he universe, do you really think that would make a difference?" Olivia and I don't respond.  "I'm asking you, would it make a difference?" "I don't know." Olivia says shyly. "Well it wouldn't. You know why?" Olivia and I shake our heads no. " Because even if he told you how to live a happy, healthy, successful,  long life, you wouldn't heed his advice. People don't like to hear good advice." "Maybe we're not as cynical as you." I declare. The farmer smirks. " It ain't a matter of that. It's human nature. We rebel against everything. Even what's "good for us." "We're not like you though." Olivia says. "Shit, I know that. I'd have to be blind not to see that." She says with a biting jab. " Then what is your point?" I ask. " I already told you my point. It's just how people are. You don't have to have a Harvard education to know that." " I think you're wrong." I say defiantly. " That's fine. Suite yourself. But if you really want to know about him, you two should come with me while I go on errands this afternoon."

Red Barn

Everything is grey. The sky has been looking like it will rain for quite some time now. It probably won't, but it has been doing this will it won't it rain thing all day. It makes no difference to me one way or another if it does or doesn't. I just wish the sky made up it's mind and did something. I don't like this in between stuff. All the cows are still grazing. If I have learned anything from text books its that animals often know of significant weather changes before we do. There is a red barn with it's door slightly ajar. A good sign that the farmer may be near by. We knock first and wait for an answer. After a moment with no reply, we decide to walk in. " Wow, I'm glad I never grew up on a farm." Olivia exclaims pinching her nose. The strong aroma of manure is the first thing one notices. Once you get past that though, it's not so bad. It's just a regular barn. Meaning lots of hay, some horses, a loft for tools, and an angry farmer glaring at us while holding a double barrel shotgun. What? She blended in so seamlessly I didn't even notice at first with her dirty jeans, flannel jacket, and reddish grey hair pulled back into a pony tail. "Not so fast. I ought to blow your goddamn heads off."

In the Fields

My nose is running. I know, a fine time to be exploring the fields of main. Curiosity got the better of me though. It does sometimes. I had to find the farmers. Maybe they could give some insight about our new friend, Bernard. Who is he? What is he? Is there any gem of wisdom we can get from him? Another party might be able to answer these questions for us. The fields are deserted. Only a handful of cows are grazing. I don't see any crops. Then again, if they did have any they probably would be long gone by this point depending on what they were. My guess is that this isn't a commercial farm, but rather, a private, personal farm.

Name Game

When we were done witnessing the sunrise, the old man made us eggs. Turns out there is a nearby farm. The farmers stop by a couple of times a week to give him eggs, milk, or pretty much any odds and ends that he can not get himself. The eggs are over easy. There isn't any salt or seasoning. We do have orange juice, but it's tart. This here is the basics. That's alright though. It is nice to have some protein. We sit crossed legged and eat on the hard wooded floor. " So you want to know my name?" The old man asks with a mouthful of breakfast. "Yes. What is it?" Olivia asks. "Not so fast. You're gonna have to guess it." I throw out a random name. "Joe?" The old man scoffs. "I want you to think about it. Really think about it. What do I look like?" Olivia and I turn to each other. "What do you think?" I ask her. "Well, I have a feeling it is something unisex." "Warmer!" The old man shouts out. "So what do you think?" I ask again. "I don't know. Maybe Stacy?" "I am not a Stacy!" He shouts out angrily. " He doesn't look like an Aaron. " I say. "Wait a minuet." Olivia turns to the old man. "Is it only vaguely unisex?" The old man smiles in agreement to her question. Olivia takes off her mask and smiles big and bright. " Your name is Charlie." The old man claps. "Charles actually. Though that name is no longer fitting. I suppose Charlie isn't either." The old man taps his forehead. " You can call me C." I squint my eyes. "So? C-" " No scratch that.  I don't like the sound of that." "What should we call you then?" Olivia questions. "What name pops up when you look at me?"  I shrug. "Bernard?" The old man leans back in his arm chair. " Bernard." He says to himself. " Bernard." He says this time with a slightly different inflection. " Bernard!" He screams at the top of his lungs. "Yes, I like Bernard. Bernard could live at the sea. But not Bernie. Bernie would never live at the sea." He smiles wistfully. "Bernard." He says yet again. This time with an almost french accent. " Yes, from this day forward call me Bernard." I'm glad that was taken care of. Now we have a name to put to this face.

Wake Up!

The old man let us stay the night. We weren't sure if we should trust this strange man we hadn't met. He could murder us in our sleep for all we knew. Then again, one could easily flip that statement. There was no rational reason for that man to trust us. We could be murderers. We could kill him in his sleep if that was our intent. Or course it wasn't , and it isn't. I wonder if this is how man is supposed to be? Hospitable? If it is then that would mean that one must be very trusting in order to be hospitable. I hate to say it, but I don't think I could be that trusting. Trust is hard. Even though we were not completely sold on this man, we didn't want to be exposed to the elements. So we stayed the night. We slept in shifts. One of us would stay awake for an hour while the other sleeps. As you probably guessed this did not work out. We crashed hard and woke at 5 a.m. to the old man's grainy voice. "You're gonna miss it." He shouts at us. I rub my eyes. "Miss what?" "The sunrise!" He replies eagerly like a child on Christmas morning. "We've seen it before." Olivia says half awake. She still wears her sugar skull mask as if it were a sleeping mask. "I know, but it's different. It's different each and every day." He says trying to make us feel alive. We are unresponsive. He snaps his fingers. "Cone on. Up. Up." We slowly get up and walk towards the window. All three of us stand in silence for a great deal of time and admire the way the sun wakes up the earth. I have always admired both sunsets and sunrises.  I admit I may have taken them for granted though. While the colors are amazing and beautiful, I think there is an even bigger picture especially when you are nearing the end and realize that your days are finite. One could always look at a sunrise and think "victory." It may seem trivial. It may seem small, but no matter who you are or where you are in life, you can always say to yourself that you made it to see another day. That itself is a victory.

The Old Man and the Lighthouse

Eventually the winding stairwell leads us to a dark, cold loft. We can hear the wind crashing against the walls. It is virtually impossible to see. If it weren't for a faint flicker of a candle we would be completely in the dark. "I feel like we should turn away. This is some one's house after all." I nervously say to her. " You're right, we probably shouldn't journey any further."  We attempt to walk back down the stairs. The floorboards on the loft are old and create a loud, creaky noise. "Why is it we're more afraid of the light than the dark?" A raspy, old man voice cries out. "Who said that?" Olivia asks, shaking. The white candle floats towards us. We can not see the body holding the candle just his silhouette. "You have nothing to fear." The old man raises the candle to his face. The light reveals long, thin grey hair, countless bags under his eyes and brown peg - like teeth in a weary mouth that hangs open. Olivia and I gasp in surprise. The old man is rightfully offended. "It's the ageing process. It'll happen to you. Maybe not like this, but it will." "We're sorry, we just weren't expecting to see you." Olivia says. "What you're suprised someone lives here?" He snarls. " A little. Why are you in the dark?" I ask. "I'm not." The old man walks over to the window. He places the candle on a stand. The candle shines through a prism which then illuminates the whole room. Olivia and I are awe struck. " Is this how all light houses work?" I ask him. " I don't know. I just know what I do." The old man wobbles to an  arm chair and plops down. " I'm afraid I don't have any more seats. But you can stay if you'd like."  Curious, we walk over to the old man. " Who are you?" Olivia asks him. " Funny, I felt I should ask you that." I begin to open my mouth, the old man stops me. "Stop. I don't want to know." "Aren't you curious?" Olivia chimes in. The old man shakes his head. "Not in the slightest." "Can we ask who you are?" I suggest. He half smiles to himself. "You can. It doesn't mean that I'll tell. you." Realizing that we're disappoited he tries to throw us a bone. "My name doesn't matter because I left that when I left my old life." Olivia and I look at each other. " What was your old life?" She asks. " It doesn't matter." He replies quickly. Figures, I knew he would say that. The old man leans forward. "This is who I am now. That's all that matters." The old man puts on a pair of slippers that were resting by the side of the arm chair. He then stands up and starts to shuffle away. " I grow tired and need my rest." He announces to us. "Ok, you want us to leave?" I ask. "No, you can stay if you like." He continues to shuffle away. Out of sight and into the shadows.

Spiral Staircase

I have mixed feelings when it comes to spiral stairways. Looking at it from a strictly aesthetic point of view, they are cool. Dare I say chic? However, if I were to look at it from a practical/ safety perspective they are fucking terrifying. There is barely any space to move, you can't see ahead of you, and it's dizzying. Every footstep creates a loud, metallic echo. "You think we are almost there?" I ask Olivia, trying to look down through the steps. "I don't know. I have no way of knowing." Did I mention the fact that you can't see ahead of you is a huge drawback?  Though I guess I shouldn't be too concerned. I mean it's a lighthouse.  What could we possibly find other than one lonely person. Or more accurately a computer. Still this does get frustrating climbing these stairs. Just when you think you are at the end.. nope more stairs. It's keeping me active at least, and we'll get there. It may take some time, but we'll get there.

Little Yellow Leaves

An oval shaped lemon color leaf floats my way. It is small enough that it rests safely in the palm of my hand with ample space. As I display the leaf on my palm, I can almost feel the autumnal sights and sounds. The pumpkins, the apples, the cool, crisp air. "Does this mean we're near land?" I say to Olivia while holding up my leaf. " I don't know." She replies, still concentrating on the distance ahead.  More little yellow leaves turn up. Not much at first. Just two or three, but they multiply quickly.  So fast that it looks as though rain is falling from the sky. Our vision becomes obstructed. All we can see is millions of tiny leaves. Olivia takes her foot off the petal. " We might as well stop here. I can't see anything." Before I have a chance to respond a faint beam of light catches my eye. "What is that?" I ask, pointing towards the light. "A lighthouse?" Olivia suggests. "You think we should drive towards it?" "It's worth a shot." Olivia continues driving. We're slow at first, but once the light is stronger she feels confident to pick up her speed. She drives practically at full force. I have to hold on tightly to my seat. " You think this is necessary?" I shout over the roar of the engin. "Come on, live a little. Besides I'm dying to know what is ahead of us." She screams in excitement as out yacht plows through a wave. I lean back and try to relax. I do this by closing my eyes and pretending I'm on a roller coaster. It actually works for a while. The boat goes up. It goes down. It zigs. It zags. It's a fun ride.... until it abruptly crashes into a rock. The crash causes me to jolt forward a little. "Sorry, guess I was just excited to get here." Olivia says to me while I rub my neck. I look up to see smoke coming out of the front of the boat. " We should probably get out." She cautions. We crawl out of the boat and on to a long , thin, rocky peninsula. At the very end of the peninsula is a lighthouse. On the opposite side ,on the sandy shore is one single tree. It leans toward the ocean. All of its leaves blow out to sea. It is as if it constantly regenerates new leaves just as the old ones blow out to sea.  I point to the tree. "Look! That's where the leaves must have come from." Olivia nods and points towards the lighthouse. "And that is where the light was from. Let's explore some more."

First of October

It’s the first of October. Where does time go? Out of my hands I suppose.  I have been piering over the side of the boat for a few hours now. On occasion I’ll see a fish flop out of the water. Mostly though I’m watching the ship cut through the water. It’s almost like when you are on an airplane and you want to look out the window, but all you can see is the wing. I'm memorized by the ship cutting though the water though. It causes little ripples. I focus on the ripples and I can see all sorts of pictures and patterns. It's the idea that when you stare at something for a long period of time, it suddenly becomes something else. Olivia is driving. Meaning I have plenty of time to see things.  Where is she taking us? I don't know, but I do trust her. A lot more than myself. Harsh words. I know, but I must be honest. The hardest thing for me is to open my mouth and say exactly what I want to say.She knows how I feel,  but uttering the words is different. I have never cared so much for any one. I could go on adventures with her until my dying days, and yet I can't say the words that I need to say. Courage, it is difficult to find at times, and it is something that is needed. Very needed. Otherwise the days will turn into weeks. The weeks to months. Months to years. Before I know it, I'll be an old man. I know what you're thinking. "What's the worst thing that could happen?" Wrong thing to say. To me at least. I'll produce a macabre scenario in my mind's eye of every possible thing that could go wrong.... It's the first of October. Cool winds are sweeping in, and ripples in the water remind me of angel Wings.