When they pulled into the lodge that Larry had rented for the weekend, Simon immediately ran down to the water's edge, his rotund body sinking into the bank. It didn't seem to slow him at all.
Larry didn't join his brother, instead choosing to sit on the edge of the bank and drink all the cold beer that he could fit in his belly. They would be on easy street for a while now. They didn't have to take another haul for a month or two if they didn't want to.
Larry was finally able to relax when the trailer was unloaded. Halfway back, Larry had a sudden idea, and he had asked his brother if he would like to take a detour and see the lake. Simon jumped at the chance, as Larry knew he would. Simon was always up for anything.
Life didn't get much better than this.
Later they built a fire and roasted hotdogs on sticks. Simon had insisted that they pick up supplies to make s'mores, and he ate four of them before throwing them all back up again. Still, he wasn't fazed and had another.
“Thank you for bringing me here, Larry.”
“No problem, little brother. It's great out here. I love the feel of the lake air.”
“It smells good, too,” Simon said.
“That it does.”
The stars appeared in the sky, and Simon made a wish. He always made his wishes out loud, regardless of the fact that Larry told him they wouldn't come true unless they were a secret.
When they were both comfy under the covers in the lodge, and Larry was just on the brink of sleep, Simon spoke. “What if we miss it?”
“What,” Larry said, in a grouchy tone.
“What if we fulfill our purpose in this world, but we don't realize it.
“Well then you die, I guess.”
“No, because that would mean our only purpose was to die, and that can't be right.”
“Hell, I don't know Simon. Let me sleep now.”
“OK, Larry, but I think that it sure would be awfully sad if we were to have fulfilled our reason for living, and never even knew it happened. I don't want to spend the rest of my life looking for something that I can never find.”
Larry was already snoring.
About the Author
Casey Bartsch lives in a tiny Texas town called Belton. He has yet to meet any of his neighbors, or travel farther than the grocery store. He doesn't eat healthy foods, and is therefore a bit rotund. His girlfriend loves him anyway, and that works out well.
Casey often struggles to find the time to write. That is a lie. The time is plentiful. He just has a hard time choosing to write when other, less mentally taxing activities are available. He feels a great deal of regret each time he makes this wrong choice.
Casey spends an obscene amount of time trying to figure out why people do what they do, why he does what he does, and how long it might take before the world implodes in on itself and leaves him stranded on a small rock floating through the emptiness of space.
Dear reader,
Thank you for taking time to read Strawberries. If you enjoyed it, please consider telling your friends or posting a short review. Word of mouth is an author’s best friend and much appreciated.
Strawberries Page 26
