I Dream of Oceans

I Dream of Oceans

Man, 20s, sits alone at a bus stop. After awhile another man, 60s, walks up and stands nearby. Voiceover, live or recorded.

A little about myself, I thought that the world would go away today, but it stayed like an owl on my shoulder reminding me that I would know what I know tomorrow as well as today. These things must be reckoned with in some way or you will be chasing the wind and losing ground and most of all time.

It’s good to try and do new things that challenge you. I am a writer, but I am shy. Still, I must go out on readings and sell my book. I must accept the role of a public speaker (figure) if but for a brief time in order to hawk my wares. Mostly, though, hopefully, the experience will be a good one for everybody involved. All it is is what I did at the Carpinteria bowl but with my own work. I can read other things as well.

Other man enters.

But I always fall away. I never really want to do it anyway. Either the money doesn’t add up or I think that its just not worth it. Mostly I want to disappear and go sit by the beach. I walk too and would like to start boogie boarding again. Get in shape. Would like to live by a boardwalk too and ride my bike a lot. Get in shape. This seems the truly most important thing for my happiness. Longevity. Knowing that I give a shit again. Good sign and good karma (popular with the girls too.)

He opens a notebook and writes quickly. He mumbles aloud without being aware.

What I really want to do is:

Be by the beach
Preferably not too crowded
Find a career

Again, what do I want to do?

Go to the beach

What else?

Fall in love.

To fall in love by the beach?


He slams the book shut then realizes he was talking aloud.

Man: You’re an old softie
Yeah, I guess so.
Its not going to happen
Why not?
Because you’re not attractive
I will be if I am by the beach. I will get in shape.
You don’t believe me?
No, I believe you.
Then what? What should I do? If not go to the beach and get in shape and fall in love, then what?
I don’t know. It’s your life.
Well, you seem to think you know a lot about my life. As much as me.
Maybe I do.
You’re a thinker type, from around here probably, the college, something like that. Or you read a lot. You read everything. You think a lot but you’re never sure what you’re thinking about. You, nah, I can’t go on.
Well, what do you think about!
Me, nothing. I just stand here.
What do you think about when you stand there?
I think about Louise. She’s my wife. She’s trying to see about the tortellini tonight. She told me. Broke down and took my son’s mobile phone. Free, some special plan. Eh. I call Louise to cheer her up sometimes. She’s not sad, but she’s not as young as she used to be. She likes the tortellini. I didn’t mean nothing about seeing into your head.
I know. I get…
Yeah, confused.
Yeah, well, I think the first thing you figured is probably the answer. Go to the beach and get in shape and fall in love and then maybe everything else will fall into place. Who knows? Stranger things have happened.

Bus comes. Young man jots one more thing down. Tape of the words.

I haven’t written a real short story in years. In fact, I haven’t written much of anything substantial in several years. I don’t know why I stopped writing. I know why. The world wert too much with me. Simple.

What to do:
Go to the beach, get in shape and fall in love. ☺

Published in: on February 5, 2011 at 3:23 am  Comments (1)  

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  1. i love this so much. don’t have the words for how this makes me feel. i am not a wordsmith. you are. i will say this….it makes me feel like singing.

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