Matthew Newton

What the Message Was (part eleven), by Matthew l Newton

The night stared back into me as I peered over the slick edges of the pier, lapping below the river laughs laquidly. I had a piss, had a point, had an opinion about the object burning a hole in my pocket. I had two seconds of peace prior to the interuption that forced me back out into it, this black stiff heat, what that freezes life and the surface perfected; much like the smoothing stoned, folded over and over again beneath the water, scaping along the riverbed of time.

“I’m shit, and I thank you for it.”

We could have done anything here, Humanity. Could have made a fraction less noise, accomplishing more in the span of twenty fortunes then spit waist upon it’s dirt, this precious earth. Yet to think that there were more to be done, to hope like a bandit in the midts of robbing the church…..less could be a comfort. My hand grasp tight that trinket, this vibrant color of sound within the folds of my jacket. If I hadn’t come to it a moment sooner, hadn’t found the split bricked fence and it’s glowing cracks. Hadn’t looked inside.

What then? What might have happened? Who may have come along to possess it before me?

“Not a who lad, a what?”

I spun around startled, thrusting the object in my hand out in front of my face, striking the air forcably and connecting to the nothing that stood in it’s place.
“Hello?” I quivered.

“Your not mad, you just can’t see me yet.”

The voice was everywhere, all over my cloths, throughout my mind. Upon the water. I spun again and again, calling out for it to show itself. Yet the more I struggled the louder it became until finaly I calmed down enough to catch my breath. Sitting against the slat incrusted railing I stared back up at the sky.
There was a moment I wanted to leave the pier, run back across the empty lot and crawl back into the box I’d left at the hotel.

“Who are you?” I repeated. This time the voice returned much softer then before.

“I am you, of course, who else would I be?”

“Me, you what?” I pulled myself back up and turned toward the water once more,
“What do you mean?”

“You are the one I have been looking, all time has been formed to shape this moment we now share.”

Matthew Newton
DOC #81868

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