Friday, March 14, 2008

Friday, March 14, 2008. You think you've seen your last shell of ice, top layer of your bedside water. The coffee is brewing. This is your morning wake-up call.

She says, "Nothing ever happens at ground level. Its always somewhere underground or on the tops of buildings, basements, or in lofts looking over the city. Shady deals are done underground and even worse things happen in board rooms, shiny wood finish and chairs swiveling. No, nothing ever happens on the first floor." I took a step back. "What about holding soil in your hands or running out into the ocean? What about the waves? You cant catch a crab and put him in your moat on the 31st floor. What about late nights out in the field, everyone drove up in the backs of pick ups, beds down, cases of beer to rest your feet? What about falling asleep in my arms with your head against a tree, sun shouting through leaves? you can't ride your bike underground and you can't feel the wind. There is no way to scuff up your shoes on the 31st floor. There is nothing at all." Wake up.