Riverside 6

“Maybe it isn’t a question of finding the perfect place, but of cultivating a state of mind, ” Slade said, tentatively.

“I’m suggesting we consider this before continuing up the river.”

“What do you think, Alex?”

Slade knew damned well Alex had no idea.

Alex for his part wondered why Slade was hitting him with New Age bullshit.

So far the two had enjoyed a contented conversation.

Contented without contention, and, to be perfectly honest, without content.

Alex and Slade were looking for something, but had no idea what.

They had no idea how to look. Were they really looking?

If they found what they were looking for, if indeed they were looking, they might not recognize it.

It was false “we’ll know it when we see it.”

Alex wished he could reply,

“I love you Slade, you of the accolade, who honor me with gift as our conversations drift. Perfect question of why do we quest when we could rest. Rest in our minds, or make our minds rest. Make up our minds, as we make our beds, for rest. For rest– or sex. Or sex, then a blissful… Bed for sexual rest– the best rest. Bed rest afterglow relaxation. Oh you Slade, I mean you for the test, and taxation. Oh you Slade, a bit west of the Everglades, a bit north of New Orleans, of the brothel we hit first thing after jail, untethered, but triggered.”