Brewing Trouble
A tense moment sparks a meditation on friendship
Friends. Friends whose shouts are the reverberating crash of ocean waves on a rocky cliff, slowly sanding down its rough edges in the way that we shape each other. Like the slow ascension of water as it marches up the steady inclination of a beach. Those are my friends.
I stand still, watching a distant world whiz by me. The world moves around me without noticing my presence. My head spins. I hear a shout echo around me, but I am unable to discern its location.
Suddenly, my world comes into view. A wooden patio bench with a glossy metal frame stained from the numerous foods spilled on it. An opaque wall with the silhouettes of people on the other side like a Halloween jack-o’-lantern. I share a brief smile with my distorted reflection, but soon I feel the tension in the area rising like the unavoidable sparks of a future wildfire, and my instincts kick in.