I wrote one of the best things I have ever written in my head while swimming a mile this morning. When I emerged, I got to put it down on paper, though it always comes out in varied form from "the original". It will hopefully be my 3rd part in the Hoodwinked Vignettes series to come out in Dead Mule School of Southern Literature. The second airs in September and the first is here: http://www.deadmule.com/maggie-hess-hoodwinked-vignettes-fiction/ I love that my fiction is coming out in chapter series, like Charles Dickens did in the publication of some of his works. And it is one of the most fun things I have ever written. Actually, writing it is making me want to read fiction, which I used to do a lot more than I do now. Writing can be a gateway drug to "high"er literacy. (How's that for some 420 punnery?)

Anyway, in the water I began a strange realization. I have spent a long time studying the impermanence of one country dirt road near a waterfall, and in those reflections, I see my own changing person, the individual evolution of who I am. But strangely, I had not done much thinking around the idea that others are changing every second too. I knew it was true, naturally, but I never really delved into it as a concept.

I am not going to be able to put all of my thoughts on this in this entry, but as I lapped, I saw not only the lanes change in terms of who was swimming, but I think I saw a young boy sitting on a bench grow a half an inch while a large man in the center lap lane lost four pounds! Then in an instant, it wasn't me who saw it, it was a part of us, we were all unified in our fleeting nature. The voice of one laughed itself into oblivion. There was no more "I" just the collective "we".