Thursday, July 2, 2015 at Culprit
A notice from Google
Paddling down the river, I shout at the top of my lungs, “BERNADETTE!”
We’ve broken up three weeks ago and there’s a haze of grief and longing between me and the Algonquin wilderness. I want it to go away, but I also clutch to it. If I lose this, I’ve lost her.
Marc makes s’mores and says he’s “never seen me so blue.” He hands me a perfectly melted marshmallow and I put the whole thing in my mouth. My tongue chars.
“Man! What the fuck?! I just took that off of the fire!” He passes me his Nalgene. My eyes tear but I don’t feel anything.
On the water the next morning, we see two loons. One calls for the other despite her being right there.