A Washing

    The only way to clear my head is to give it a through washing.  My head and arms rush forward as my back arches and my legs follow the rest of me smoothly under the surface of the cooled river water. 

    I let the water float me towards the surface.  If I lie on my back I can’t hear anything except the moving water, the gentle motion of the rivers caress.  I like the warm air on my face because it’s not scorching me with sunlight but the humid feeling leaves a sensation of warmth blanketing anything floating out of the water.  But I can still hear my thoughts.  I can still hear his laugh and see his smile.  He was my friend gone wrong, a love turned sour; the waters not loud enough to drown out everything.

    I quickly swim to make the water louder, the splashing, and movement drowns my thoughts.  My arms and legs propel me back upstream to where my floating started.  The current’s strong today.  It must be all the rain.  Under the overhanging tree again, I float.  My eyes close, and I see his face.  Tremors run through me and I can no longer feel the air, the water, I can no longer breathe. 

     Down I go.  I shake my head, I shake my hands, I shake everything in the cool depths in hopes I can stop shaking.  And then the water gets louder.  It’s being pelted with something.  I float.  My face breaks the surface and I can feel a pattering, tickling sensation bounce off my skin into the water. 

    The grey sky has opened and is letting loose a down pouring of everything it can hold.  The sound of the water droplets colliding with the river, hundreds of them at once, is just what I needed to mar the noises in my head.  This moment is everything I could ask for from this life.  If only I could come to this place every time my world collapses in on itself.

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School Papers
writing McGills
It seemed like a good idea at the time.
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I had to write a piece about nature for my creative writing class. This is what I came up with
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