The Pier


I want to say that the last time I walked the pier was sometime in my adolescence. It probably didn’t even look like it does today because nothing looked familiar at all. People kept asking me how I felt the closer we got to the end of the pier. I don’t think I was sad or even happy for it to be over. It just felt like everything had happened exactly as it should. I was with exactly the right people in the exactly the right moment in time. After the crazy last week I had where the universe made it no secret that the planets were aligning to make everything come together at the last minute (Meeting Barbara Wallace and getting into the senior community, walking by Sunken City and it being open and the fireman letting come in and getting that private tour from John Olguin)…it was just all gravy. It was a short walk with good friends and all of a sudden the end was there. I probably should have kicked the end with my nasty shoe, but I chose a dainty finger touch instead.

That fisherman next to my friend Joseph was not phased by all our carrying on one bit. Not even when we all broke out into high fives and group pictures.

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