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February 18, 2022

Cabin In The Woods

“Good to see you!” I said, wildly exaggerating. “I’ve missed you! (like a chapped ass)
she was one of those nervous types; always moving and fidgeting

I mean she was nice enough, but her constant nervousness got on my nerves

she giggled innocuously looking at the menu stained with...something 

her entire outfit was one big clash with a capital C

she fidgeted as she always does and then asked the waitress 

for things that weren’t even on the menu (pumpernickel toast)

some chamomile tea and a bowl of minestrone soup

settling instead for a grilled cheese on white...

after the waitress left undoubtedly shell-shocked at the encounter 

my friend cackled and said “well, she asked me what I wanted”

we used to see each other more often

she had a cabin deep in the woods off route 2

inherited from her Daniel Boone-esque grandfather 

(‘a real ‘man’s man’) hunter & fisherman extraordinaire 

a beautiful rustic place surrounded by oaks, elms, pines

different varieties of maples, weeping willows

a short walk from the tippecanoe river 

it was gorgeous but a little too remote for me to live there

and she had asked me a couple of times to do just that

I was so tempted imagining the things I could write secluded there

I’d even get up early just to listen to the birds singing 

bacon and eggs then a walk down to the river banks

hearing the water splashing over the rocks as it flowed past

then I would go back to the cabin and sit on the screened back porch

that was enclosed around a large oak tree typing leisurely all afternoon 

I was going to put typing furiously but I couldn’t be furious 

in that kind of xanax setting 

she’d had a few live-ins there but always caused them to run off

maybe it was the disquieting introspection that the place invited 

the days were wonderful but the nights were unsettling 

dark and remote, no neighbors for miles, sketchy phone service 

the fear of being murdered by intruders

the cabin had-had a couple of break-ins

thankfully when no one was there

so I declined her offer of sofas smelling of sickening cheap sweet perfume

bad tasting ‘homemade wine’, and grating idiosyncrasies 

leaving her to the live squirrels and raccoons

and dead animals stuffed and mounted on the halls and walls