Scrambling for home...

A comical figure, dressed in server attire, ambles out to address his table. Can tyou hear the sounds of jazz playing over the din? I can, and I can also see the lights play over the ocean's surface; refineries and mean, old brick buildings across the harbour as the illuminating source. I can almost smell their smoke; salty and thick, like the content of the water itself.

Four seasons past and gone, with the fifth one soon to begin. The depth of my understanding grows deeper with every day that passes. In the beginning days after waking up, I was so full of life and could see for miles in front of me; where now I can see for generations. Do we ever come to a point where we stop and forget to breath? I could not even begin to try and pretend not to notice my surroundings. To give thanks for second chances; another opportunity at a moment lingering on. It is just up ahead, waiting patiently for my arrival. Only I will know when that due date is.

There is no rush, no hurry, and, "Hey man? Did you need a refill on that?" A light tinkling of glass on glass to acknowledge, and a potential is full; potential of a half-empty glass, that is. The heart beats as the finger plugs the hole in the dam...how long before that is not suffice, and the walls come tumbling down? You pick yourself up, brush off the dust, and continue on. Forward progression is the key to survival.

The horns play in the background, and the dark slowly sets. The lights turn low and the night begins. It's closing time, boys; shut the doors and close the shades. Hit the ground walking and never ever look back.

Time stalls for a brief stop, and then once again continues its unabated momentum. My scenery changes from water to concrete and steel. I look out the window at the cemeteries dotting the landscape, an age-old tradition of final passage. What will be eventually gives way to what is coming; what is coming eventually gives away to what will be. Time waits for no man; only the moment waits for us all.

Hold on McGinty. Hold on.

"Patience is the companion of wisdom."
- St. Augustine