Attack of the Seaweed

June 15, 2005


I venture outside for the first time on a new day, and my car is the only car left in the covered lot. “Everyone is at work,” I think to myself, “and I’m right back where I was at 21.” But that’s not altogether true, if I may give myself some credit. I have accomplished many accomplishments. I have grown despite outward appearances.

Here I am where I love to be despite the massive amount of seaweed. Believe in something again. Anything. Age will not drag me down. There is a man running on the beach and I can’t tell if he’s coming or going. I sit in my Wal-Mart bought chair as the riddle fades from my view. He’s not heading my way.

The sound of the ocean lulls me as it always has, and the stench of the seaweed has taken over my sense of smell. I can feel myself burning. Time for a dip in the flat, warm waters of the Gulf.

Author: Lindsay Niemann

Writer | Graphic Artist