Jerry walked down the misty and almost forgotten path on his way back from Devin’s house with his hands deep in pockets of his hoodie while still realing from the night before. More accuratly, form just an hour ago.

“It’s pretty late in the morning-night.” he and his friends would say when recognizing that it would be four in the morning as opposed to six in the evening when the drinking would start. Jerry only drinks like this every once and blue moon, but when he does it would give the impression that he and Devin were drinking to die or to have a near death experience.

Jerry could only guess that it was around six in the morning now since the morning fog from the harbor started to lift, but he could still see it in the distance from where he was. While walking suprisingly in a simi-staight line as the path led, he tries to remember the last time both he and Devin, as well as their cohorts before they went off to do the proper adulting activities that one does like going to college, starting a family, paying your own bills, not drinking until “early-late-in the morning-night,” but the even conjoring up what little of his brain cells he didn’t decimate from the night before made him dizzy.

He has flashes of those memories, though. Faint as they may be, as he looks to see his family home in a distance, he has those glimpses of times long past and a future envied.

The grass has overgrown the path just as it was before so that means that someone has been tending to it at least every quarter year. The stagnat morning air was something that he wasn’t used to considering that he lived so close to the water and that it was a rare occation he ever wake this early, but it, in a strange way, gave hime a since of serenity and purpose. The land has been the some since childhood and he was okay with that. This meant that he could wonder when the momnet sruck him; this meant the dispite the wiles and stresses of the life he had, he was free and half it would be his one day. Sometimes he never wanted to the walk to end. Sometimes the trees in the distance gave a welcoming glow dispite how dreary they looked to others.

He stops to survey the landscape for a moment as the effects of the night before fade from his eyes, mind, and stomach. Every breath he takes he tastes the morning air, as did his grandfather, and great grandfather, did when they were in their prime years. Every inhale through his nose felt as though it brought the purests of nature into his very being and danced with his soul. Though his friends from school might be out, proving themselves more responsible than he ever had the drive to be, at this moment, in this dance, he wouldn’t have it any other way.