LL

" 'Downhill? The term means nothing to you?' "

The Giver, pg. 79

I had the urge to fall, in the physical sense, down a very specific hill in LBI.  This hill, if you will, was more like a mound, separating one business from the sidewalk business.  The hill's meager attempt to be the king of LBI dirt was appreciated by my cush eyes, but in all actuality, the mound was about 4 feet from start to finish.  Watch your ankle.  

My little hill that could was adjacent to the miniature golf course I stood upon with my borrowed green ball and lead of two points.  I drifted into my head for a second, and stared at some point before we got to the hole with the waterfall and bridge - that hole always shakes and quivers with children's anticipation because it's an adventure (for me, it reminds me of the pirate ship in Hook).  I know I was happy to be done with the Polaski's at the register, though that shan't be any logical reason to roll down a hill.  Maybe I just need to travel more.  

[No one threw their clubs this year.]  

What goes up must come down down in a speedy tidal sense, we're on the beach here people.  A tsunami of a body lurching at the concrete with a wide open mouth and a wave of silence gargling through vocal chords.  A body of water without the pretty sounds of a splash.  You're choking.  After my roll down the Shreky grass, would be the interesting, in the most sarcastic sense of the word, landing "I'm sorry, I just felt like rolling down this tremendous hill!"

How does my impact feel?  Is it worth it to disturb these lives for ten minutes?  What would the passersby feel?  Same as the ones I actually care about?  There she blows, tumbling into people with their large tumbling slushees, green and red drip drops staining their polo shirts and white boat shoes.

Did she just roll down that hill, under the rope with an ice cream cone in the palm of her hand?!

  Beach-siders, the source of blood on the island, have these specific put-put faces that obviously have experienced too many pastries in such a short time span.  The women and men of the bay side grimace with wads of cash in their pockets and fake silver lining.  I could have tumbled into them and disturbed their sense of center, but I opted against it.

I would have rather been here: