The Lake

        Turtles on a log in the sun.  The rooted path covered in slippery trampled pine needles.  When he came out of the woods onto the tarmac lake trail he noticed a baby’s pacifier lying on the side of the path. Debating to pick it up or leave it, he moved on, leaving it in case the owner’s mother returned to this spot.

The bend in the trail lipped around a small ravine that sloped down to the lake’s edge.  Stopping to appreciate the sun kaleidascope-ing through the trees, he noticed something odd down by the water.  He took a few steps off the tarmac towards the lake.  It was a baby carriage. He looked around as he started down the slope, sliding on the lifeless bodies of last year’s foliage.

It’s like I didn’t know what I was looking at and by the time my brain comprehended what my eyes took in, I stumbled backwards, turned and fell into the mud at the edge of the water.  I turned to look back up the slope of the ravine, my head sweaty and swimming.  An old Asian couple out for a morning walk had stopped and where looking down.  A kid with a fishing pole appeared on the opposite bank of this narrow stretch of lake and called over to see if I was okay.  I yelled to him to call the cops and then vomited.