A peep hole

So I have been writing on the trip– a lot.

I don’t know if anything will come of it.  But I thought I would put out a blurb.

I think I am hanging out with teens too much.  Cause I king of want to make a game of this.  It will be like writing your own ending.  I will put out the teaser and you tell me what happens next.

…

“I yelled at Eric as we walked home from a friend’s house.  I rarely ever yell but on this night I couldn’t stop blistering discontent.  My words raged.

I didn’t know what else to do.  I was desperate.  With each step my fingers gripped tighter, my hands shook faster.   My head ached with frustration and I wanted to hit something, anything–if given the opportunity I would have kicked a pigeon–possibly even a duck.

I screamed everything I could think.  Stupid stuff.  Random stuff.  I told him he was a horrible driver, he took too long eating breakfast and I hated when he talked about himself. I was a third grader calling Eric the fat, smelly kid. My words were spiteful as I picked apart his deep, natural tendencies and called them growing edges.

Eric and I had been squatting in Washington DC for two weeks and we were no longer connecting.

For over a year we had been fantasizing about this trip.  It was our American Adventure–two bro’s packing their lives up, taking only what is required, driving the countryside and helping strangers along the way. It was a beautiful, wonderful fantasy.  But after less than a month, it already felt dreadfully wrong.

Eric and I have been best friends since high school.  We spent holidays backpacking Europe, New Zealand and Australia. But at this moment, as we are working, sleeping, eating, drinking, walking, driving, packing lunches, watching reruns, play gin rummy…being together–it didn’t feel right.  We were no longer working. I felt alone and Eric was always at my side.  “

So there you go.  Tell me what think should happen next.  Maybe your ideas will be better than our life.

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