Memory
I am swimming with two of my friends. We are in a beautiful lake, the water is crystal clear, rigged black rocks on the shore. I am wearing a one piece swimsuit with a big symbol on my chest, I can’t quite tell what it is, distorted by the moving water. I drift back in the water, floating. I wake up and find myself in a strange sea port, except without an ocean, lake, river or large body of water nearby. I walk out of my room, which is right next to the front door. I head deeper into the building which is built out of rough wooden shelves. Some parts are cleanly sanded and lacquered, other parts look like they were build by a child, multiple nails to one joint, half hammered sideways into the wood. I walk down some wonky stairs and find myself in a sort of dining/social room with a big table and benches. I go to walk up the stairs at the other end of the room but can’t go any further. The need to fix the wooden walls is to great, it is as if I have to right the sloppy job or go crazy. I start planning down boards that stand out awkwardly, sanding vigorously and happening in nails where boards are loose. Puling out crooked nails and replacing them satisfyingly with a straight centrally placed nail, hit on the head and going all the way in with just one or two swings of the hammer. |
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