david schrott is everywhere

772 Runs Through Eastern Lancaster County

Posted in daily life by thebreakfastdictator on 09/03/2014

The drive from Philadelphia to Lancaster is not all that far. Somehow, though, it always ends up taking longer than it really should. The blue emergency lights were visible a few stop-lights down and we tried to push past them anyways. It was impossible and fluorescent clad firefighters moved us right. Right behind and 18-wheeler and right behind Route 30. I don’t know this road but it winds and dives through the eastern part of the county. The thick late-summer air is uncomfortable and small little memories crack the concrete of long-forgotten summers. Out of nowhere, PV High School is there on the right. Remember summer leagues in dark blue jerseys? The gym was swealty and Nicole brought her friend Sara who I was told would be my true love. Then she wasn’t. Then neither was Nicole.

Remember post-Thanksgiving day basketball games in their monstrous gym? And that break away 3-pointer that I rang in and out that could’ve swung the momentum? Remember thinking how if we could keep up with them we could keep up with Mt Calvary (we couldn’t)? How about stripping the ball from Kyle Byler cleanly and being called for a foul? He tied it at 22. That was the autumn, but the summers just never feel as long as they should. There’s 19 days left of the current one. Drag it out. Embrace it. Revel and roll in it’s warmth and glory.

The exhaust pipe is creaky. The trunk leaks. Everything is chaos in the backseat. A truck is needed but so are other things. This Toyota will do for now. The sky is almost purple to the left and the lightning aches forth from flat colored clouds. Due west is a golden sunset, the color-wheel compliment of purple and we drive right into it. Will there be rain or won’t there? A little. Here and there. Enough to close the sun-roof and the perfect amount to be slightly annoying. Will we ever get home?

The summer comes. The summer goes. The winter comes and the winter stays. This is simply a mystery. One flies and one grinds. It grinds to the point of breaking. Will there be relief or will this misery last eternally? Make some coffee. Turn the heat up. It just keeps getting colder. I can’t feel my fingers, nor my toes. The spasms at my waistline ache from never-ending shivering. There are people who love this and I hate them for it. Why do you love such misery? Let’s sweat a little instead. There is no need for snow, for ice for miserable coldness and eternal blackness. Please, oh summer, I beg you, stay awhile. Stay till December, January, yes, even February. How could we live without you?

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