Nothing

Nothing.

Nothing.

I was thinking one time near Nicollet Ave., downtown, in the back of some kitchen. I can remember a trip where my father and I drove to the boundary waters nonstop from La Crescent, MN. We left just at dusk, we made tracks in a hurry. Our gear was bundled up and thrown in, all hodge-podge mismatched. Something was amiss. My father wanted to leave town. I jumped in and brought music, a leather cd case. We listened to whatever hip-hop or classical rock I had at the time, nothing of consequence. I was relatively young, maybe 17, maybe less. We drove through these desolate towns in Minnesota. It was well late. They were just specks of light really. We drove for 8 hour straight making a seldom stop for a piss or for gasoline. It was growing dark. We were on the last leg of the trip. There were more trees and the smell of the Great Lakes, unfamiliar yet welcoming. We were winding up and through the Gun Flint Trail, the last 90 miles of our journey. This kind of road makes a tired man sea-sick, and a frail boy dizzy. Along the way I had purchased some spray whip-cream and when we hit a bump I cut the side of my cheek trying to squeeze some out. We arrived at the cabin late. The owners were asleep. Two women- lovers, were in the cabin next to ours, but we didn’t have any keys. We couldn’t do anything about it. We didn’t knock. We had to sleep in the truck sitting up, surrounded by our belongings. So, my dad, tired from the lengthy drive, was out fast. He started snoring, and then silence. I sat up in my seat and couldn’t find comfort. I remained there staring blankly into the dark where the road disappeared into oblivion. There was nothing, I could see white bubbles floating across my line of sight. I was watching so hard I didn’t know if I was awake or dreaming. Nothing moved. There was no sound. And out there I knew there was nothing. *** My friend overdosed. I asked him what he saw when he was dead. He told me it was just black. I told him I was glad he was back. I turned to the lake to watch the water.

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About Terry Scott Niebeling

Hello, My name is Terry Scott, a human being with flaws. twitter: @sirterryscott Buy my ebooks: http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss_1/191-4788099-1818040?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=terry+scott+niebeling
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