Post Picnic


Related: Dream State. En Flux. Intentions Veiled. Discovery. Kiss. Connection. Disconnection. Psychology. Reclusive. Elusive. Magic. Exemplar. (Ex/In)Ternal Cohesion. Content. Ed. (p)Reserve. Relationship. Self-denial. Self-control. Rest. Sleep. State. Touch. Vision. Manifest. Move. Cycle. Nature. Fear. Courage. Love.

The sign at the entrance of a large condo community boasted living options of varying levels. The largest promised eight different levels of living space, and though I wasn’t interested in living there, I was interested in seeing how close I could get to his home. ‘Private’ stalking had moved from real life to dream states.

I left my car at a complex several miles away and rode a bike to a small park near his place. Leaving it near a tree I walked to the complex and flew to a picnic table several hundred feet in the air and facing the windows of the condo community. I didn’t know which windows were his but it didn’t matter. I pulled out a journal, pen, and Monster energy drink from my backpack and began writing.

I was uncomfortable being watched and didn’t know how I was going to get back on the ground when the time came to leave. It wasn’t discomfort I wanted to fight, but control I was trying to gain; control over a closeness that was palpable but always invisible. Before I knew it the sun began setting and the time to leave had come. I looked down at the ground in fear but jumped anyway, realizing too late that I’d left my journal and backpack on the picnic table.

Not sure if I had the energy to fly up again along with the courage to jump down before dark, I began crying, and a man riding a bike nearby stopped to ask if I was okay. Without a word I looked up at the picnic table before looking back at him. Without a word he smiled, approached, and kissed me.

A cat began crying in the middle of that kiss, so he pulled away to ask me where it was. It was standing between us, a small black cat, so I opened my eyes to tell her that her timing sucked, but she was hungry and didn’t care, so I woke up, followed her to the kitchen and fed her.

The picnic table was my kitchen, and the kiss my food, but it was a dream after all. If there was no rain, surely we’d have stayed all day.

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