One Last Thing for September

...just a chunk of fiction you might enjoy

I met some friends from Sioux Falls at the Lake Byron campground yesterday. Melissa called and said she was going out there with her boyfriend and some of our mutual friends. As it’s only a 45 minute drive from my place, I decided to show up and camp out with them for the night. I felt so crowded at the campfire, so much so that an overwhelming urge to sprint into the forest yelling or to drop myself into the cold lake water tugged at my shirt all night long. Funny how it’s the presence of people that make’s me feel the most lonely.

Mel and I slept under the stars. I only woke to up to turn over, other than when a raccoon was sniffing dangerously close to my head. Despite their harmlessness, coons are another one of those animals that will petrify you with terror when you don’t you see them coming.
“Mel?”
“mmmm”
“I think there’s a coon here.” I whispered, though it sounded incredibly loud in the airy night.
“yeah.” is all she said.

Then back to sleep she went and I was left there, just me and the coon who was rummaging through a bag of marshmallows. This was somewhat soothing to me because my parents had a pet raccoon when they were first married and it’s favorite food was marshmallows. Any wild animal threat was now gone. I had the assurance that this was a regular raccoon eating regular raccoon food so I just laid there, staring up at the stars and wispy clouds, trying to be introspective.

I was awake until the sun came up and even before that time I was itching to get out of there. I was itching to get on the road, to head back home to my cave. Etiquette convinced me to stay until sunrise, but that was all. I nudged and said goodbye to Melissa, grabbed my crap, nestled into the cool leather seats of my car, and drove off quietly through the sleepy campground. When I finally reached the highway I felt a bitter sense a relief. Relief to be away from the confines of people, especially those I didn’t know well. The bitterness came because I wanted to want to be with people, but my unrest at the campground told me I couldn’t. It’s unhealthy, I know.