But it might seed fantasies that don’t belong. Might confuse things that are currently very straight in my head.
Asher and I are friends.
Asher doesn’t do casual sex.
Asher wants a wife and kids.
If I bang this lookalike and enjoy it, what will that do to my very sturdy Friend shelf where I keep all things Asher-related? Will it loosen the brackets? Bend the braces?
Tear the whole thing off the wall?
No, thanks.
With that in mind, I give Ashton a halfhearted wave. “Have a good night.”
I practically flee down the hall.
Outside the building, the roar of the gulf’s waves on the shore fills the air, and the warm, salty breeze carries the scent of sand and fish. Drawn to the water, I slip off my heels and carry them in one hand as I trudge through the soft sand.
The dark gulf stretches out before me, endless, somehow thunderously loud and interminably silent.
It bears a vicious sort of beauty.
At baseline, the ocean is so peaceful, but its power churns beneath the surface, unforgiving, only emerging to remind us of our insignificance when we least anticipate it.
I often wonder about the levees that broke during Hurricane Katrina. Would any levee have been strong enough to withstand that storm surge? What circumstances could have led to my parents surviving that awful storm?
The better question: Why do I still live on the coast when the fear of floods keeps me awake at night? The risk of drowning in a flood would be near zero if I moved somewhere inland, yet I stay near the beach.
But it isn’t safe anywhere, really. The heat in Arizona. A tornado in Kansas. A wildfire in California. An earthquake in Alaska. A freeze in North Dakota.
Nowhere is safe, and the devil I know is preferable to the one I don’t. I never swim in the ocean, but I need its proximity as a reminder of the devious power it possesses.
Friends close. Enemies closer.
I am embracing my nemesis with both arms.
To flee would be admitting defeat, and I cannot let it win.
By itself, water is a careless killer. A deceptive lover. A cunning adversary.
The ocean? It’s an attestation that the most beautiful things in life are by far the most dangerous.
Jocelyn
3 Years Ago
The basement of the hospital is where they relegate the broken gurneys, the janky vending machines with unwanted snacks like apple fruit pie and Bugles, and the HR department. Here is where the dreams of excited new doctors go to die.
Because this is where LEGENDARY training takes place.
I spend ten minutes begging the photographer in HR topleasetake another picture. The one on my new hospital badge looks as if my blond hair spiraled through a wind tunnel prior to snapping the photo, and my chin is tucked just enough to double it. The photographer refuses, stating I’ll need to pay twenty dollars to replace it.
Twenty dollars!
What new doctor can afford such extravagant prices?
Thanks to this fiasco, I’m running late, so I abandon the battle for another day. After muttering a few choice insults under my breath, I spin away from the unreasonable man and fly through the gurney graveyard toward my last stop of hospital orientation:
