The Creation
“Life is about creating yourself.” — George Bernard Shaw
1.We stayed going to the beach back then. Where we’d go, there were rows of palm trees that lined up and down the sand. Some of them had coconuts that could crack a person’s skull if they weren’t careful. She used to dare me to run on that beach with her, always thinking she could win. This one time, she almost did. I pawed my way from the parking lot to the dunes, and we weaved through the trees. She was so fast! Man, I stay thinking about her.
I always admired her, of course, from a safe distance. Hell, I’ve only known her since we were kids. Back when she was dumb and vulnerable, my mom used to invite her over to eat. Chastity’s poor mom couldn’t afford dinner rolls half the time, or a chicken wing for that matter. So, we let them have ours. I clearly remember thinking her name was “Charity” at first since that’s what she meant in my mind. That, and thinking how strange her physique was; the frail thing never made it over a hundred pounds, never tanner than a blank sheet of printer paper.
Yes, so Chastity was her name. And I used to tell her, you know, “You’re pretty,” because she was, sort of, and follow it by, “But kinda weird though,” because she also was. She didn’t ever say anything back, but laughed. I wondered all the…
