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Neither As Hard Nor As Easy

March 20, 2011

Neither As Hard Nor As EasyIt’s September, my favorite time of year, and my wife and I are, once again, headed the Caribbean. We look forward to this every year: the beautiful Caribbean Sea, the tasty, salty food, and the sun. I look over at my wife but she is too tired to speak. We’ve been traveling for days with no sleep and little food. When we were younger it was not a problem but now, I can feel the weight of our travels upon her. I try to think of something, anything that I can do to make it easier for her but I can’t give her rest and I don’t have any food. She looks thin to me. Frail. But there is something else strange about her. I can’t tell what it is. “Just a few more miles,” I say. I know I can keep going, but I can tell that every minute is painful to her. My heart feels heavy and I start to regret our decision to leave home at all. After a while, I can see the beautiful coast line ahead. I look over to my wife to tell her the good news but she is not there. She is 50 feet below me and falling fast. I go after her. We catch a breeze from the East and coast down; riding the wind like a surfer rides the waves. But the breeze doesn’t last and eventually it is up to her to break her fall. Her body hits the water and as she rises to the surface I can see the slick, slippery substance coating her tiny frame.  I realize that this is the end for her and the impact of the realization shocks my chest. I look down at my own feathers, only to find the same greasy substance. In the crystal clear water below us, I can see fish.

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