this weekend, i snuck away to Fernie on my own, to write. and it was great. there’s nothing like writing yourself around, into, and through a story. and i had one of those experiences, you know the ones, where you write something and it kinda blows your mind. it’s only a paragraph and i won’t bother with the set-up, but this paragraph got me, good.
and he remembers how one summer, in what seems like another life, he’d partied on Bell’s Beach with the surfers, having fun. he remembers how, later that summer, he’d sat with a girl who would soon become his wife on the edge of a bonfire. he had an image of her imprinted in his memory. the bonfire was the backdrop. she was sitting cross-legged on a blanket and had just turned toward him, her face open and smiling. her feet were covered with sand. and when he saw her next, he’d say he was sorry, that the pregnancy was an accident for her too. he could do that much. what he meant was that he could do that much for her. for that girl on Bell’s Beach.
i don’t know where it came from and i don’t care. it’s fucking here. thank god.
what have you written lately that got under your skin?