are slowly rolling in off the lake, moving closer, then hovering for ten or fifteen minutes -- loud and beautiful...
~~~
I was laying on the living room floor in the dark and had the sudden, horrible realization that it's exactly what my dad used to do, night after night...except that he would also be shitfaced drunk, burning cig holes in the carpet...alternately sobbing and singing "Red River Valley" at the top of his lungs until my mom went downstairs to put him to bed..."Bob, you're keeping the kids awake..."
~~~
I definitely have my dad's brooding nature at times...which is not such a bad thing; I often wonder why none of us seem to have succumbed to the relentless waves of blackness that have always held my father just below the surface...
~~~
Sometimes I feel like my life has been a series of close calls in the gene pool...
~~~