And So It Goes

Franklin was in his cabana, sipping a mai tai,

listening to the waves. He kept up with what

was happening in the States. He was glad he

was not there, that he had moved to Mexico

twenty years ago, to a town protected by it’s

vibe (from the copper in the mountains that

surrounded it?). His decision to do so was 

purely instinctive…a brainstorm like the one

he had when he decided to become a plumber.

His mind had somehow grokked the clues he

saw and felt. He was brave enough to take 

some leaps in life, not jumping to conclusions,

rather seeing what was there and acting 

accordingly. Many people just looked for the

most convenient rut and stayed with it their

whole lives. The ones that didn’t seemed like

weirdos and crazies. Some of those became

his friends. Two soldiers walked along the 

beach with automatic rifles. He noticed them

that morning as they got out of their truck. He

wondered if someone had noticed the smell of

the joint he had smoked in his room.