Semi-Daily Scribbles

Unsettled and restless from years of switching gears, Lonnie looked for ways to slip comfortably out of consciousness. She didn't want to stay away from the shop forever, but she did need a rest from all the wrong turns she'd taken lately. Lonnie thought she might slip into the sea and follow the humpback's migration. Riding on the back of a whippet sounded doable, too. Lonnie wanted to be the blurred countryside speeding past idle onlookers. Any number of scenarios, where her imagination was unleashed by a simple wish, would make for a grand vacation. Fantasy was a lovely land in which to get lost. As long as she could pick up reality where she left it, neither Lonnie's boss nor the winding line of hungry customers would be the wiser.

Coffee, hot as a volcano and thick as molasses, steamed Lionel's lenses as he walked the distance between kitchen and carport. He was going to start a new project. Lionel looked over his collection of scrap lumber and sheet metal before selecting an unfinished backboard. Lionel decided it was cut out for a greater purpose than basketball. He set the mug of stars down on his work bench.

"There is magic in everything," he reminded the orange, short-haired tomcat lapping up water out of a whipped topping container. Lionel stepped over the cat as he reached for a tackle box. It held A's, and B's, and I's. All the stencils he'd ever need if he was going to spray-paint a novel on the side of his barn. The project at hand, however, was on a much smaller scale. Lionel remembered a segment of his dream the night before, and he had to get it down on pressboard for posterity.

"What do you think, cat?" Lionel coughed and took a sip of coffee. "We galaxy gaze while the brightest light beats inside our chest." Lionel gave the animal a few moments to compose its thoughts. Mr. Tomcat stretched and sauntered off toward the alfalfa fields. "Huh. Well, I like it." Lionel felt yellow was a proper paint choice for his message. He thought the words were helpful, and making the sign might ease his fear of solid surfaces. Lionel wasn't scared of wood or granite; it was more of a trust issue. Those substances weren't really solid, and he never knew when he might lose molecular cohesion and melt into the kitchen table. He was aware, of course, his table and chairs only gave off the illusion of being sturdy, but he played along with popular opinion whenever his neighbor, Joe, came around looking for a few solid railroad ties. It was easier to just nod and smile. Since Lionel did not believe in luck, he'd let folks like Joe knock on wood all they wanted.

Lionel once lived in view of cedars and the sea. These days, he stares at broken tractor parts and rusty dog food tins. Lionel trains himself to see the deep blue in the mosquito infested wells of treadless tires. Oxidation looks close enough to gold. Through lenses not so rosy, Lionel tracks elusive beauty nesting in the confusion of wasted space.