Home Plate

I'm at home plate in Cayce, SC.

I'm not joking; I'm sitting on home plate in Cayce, SC.

I need to be alone.

I spent the last twelve hours at a beer festival and I just need to be away from everything.

I'm aching for summer.

I'm drinking CAVU and wearing tank tops hoping that will rush along the seasons.

My left leg has a hot spot. I woke up this morning and almost broke down when I saw it. I don't need that right now. There is simply too much going on.

I need sunshine. It makes me healthy. 

I need beaches and slight sunburns and loud music and separation from the world.

Ugh.

Center me.

I'm sitting on home plate in Cayce, SC. 

I can't see Orion, but I can see first. 

And second.

And third.

So, I can see the game. 

I can hear the crack of the bat.

I know that I can wreck it. I know that I can batter up. I know that I can tap that bat on my heel and smile, because I know I can kill it.

Bugger.

I'm laying down on home plate in Cayce, SC and I'm wishing you were here. 

The cloud cover sucks. 

I see one star.

I wish I were able to hold your hand.

I'm laying on home plate and I see everything.