Feeling infinite...

So, I finally read The Perks of Being a Wallflower again. This time I did it for class as my "choice" book. I don't think I followed the assignment, but I don't care. I'd been meaning to read it again and this was a good opportunity. (Thanks, Megan, by the way, for giving it to me what, in one sense, seems like an eternity ago yet in another seems like only yesterday.)

Though I can no longer say that it's my favorite book, (I've read a lot of books since then) I can still say that it's a quality read and I enjoyed it again. My favorite part is still and likely always will be Charlie's poignant line as they are driving through the Fort Pitt tunnels emerging into the city, "I feel infinite."  Because that describes it so well, doesn't it? We've all had that feeling (at least I hope we have), and there's nothing else like it. So, in keeping with my promise to myself to write more often, here's a story about some characters feeling that exact thing.


They raised the back hatch of the old Cherokee and retrieved three lawn chairs, unfolding them and setting them up in the gravel in front of the camper. It was a quiet day at the lake, as it always was. There was never much stirring among the campers in the day-time. Most every one was out in the water doing one thing or another and those that weren't, hid in the dark corners of their shelters, making coffins of their beds, serving their penance for the night before. The three of them had been granted a reprieve--this weekend would soon be over, and their time could be served after they'd returned to the daily drudge of their all-too academic lives. This weekend was borrowed time. They sat upon the gravel in their lawn chairs shirtless like animate chloroplasts, allowing the sun's rays to fill them with nourishment and energy they could feel as their skin basked in it, seeking saturation.

Jesse was hard at work packing the Camels.  As he worked, his mind wandered to the times he'd spent over the past year, fondly reminiscing over the many nights at school spent learning but not studying. As he finished, he let out a knowing and satisfied chuckle. He admired his work, and saw that it was good. He lit, hit, and passed, drawing another from the pack to repeat the process until they each inhaled, leaned back and sat silent and still as the trees. The reflection of the sun on the water filled them with joy and the sound and smell of the smoke paired perfectly with the warm embrace on the sun's love. The three of them smoked in silence until the last of the embers was extinguished, having fulfilled its destiny admirably. These were always the times when they felt the smartest and most at home, among kindred spirits and like minds, discussing anything that the wind introduced. The world was their prompt, and on that day, they wanted to tackle it--all of it--starting at the beginning and working up to the previous second, accounting for everything that was and was to be. All was clear. They had succeeded in decoding life's veiled codes. They each understood fully and exactly, sharing thoughts as they shared air. All they saw and smelled and thought and heard was life, and it was perfect. What had been a mysterious mistress always flirting from afar yet remaining out of grasp had today revealed herself and all of her deepest secrets. She had given herself to them, completely submitting to the passion of the moment. It was a triumph; the stone was rolled away and the truth shone bright through the clouds. In that moment, they were infinite.

Incidentally, I am planning a Great American Adventure, in which I will take several months to drive cross country, stopping at whatever place catches my eye or piques my interest. Any suggestions?