Red In The Water

Wings & Weight.

Wings & Weight

We are an eclectic movement. All three of us, together. Relinquishing conventional odds.

Leap and the net will appear

FullSizeRender 4

Each of us bringing only what we can carry; our own extraneous items sewn together by skills we're sure we'll pick up along the way.

Leap and the net will appear.

I'm in the back of a Vanagon that I de-rusted and painted myself. I even changed all of the backlights and headlights. Rick follows behind quietly to correct my mistakes on the way to our elegant nirvana.

My elegance. His nirvana.


Mac tips his hat and takes our contagion in silhouetted stride. We finally trust him enough to remember each other in his midnight company. And so I love you in the dark. In the quiet hours, before your voice exhales your softer tones and replaces them with necessary provisions like making sure your compadres don't drain the van battery before we even begin….I see you. And you're there with your heart in your hands, again. And you stand until I meet you. And then I stand alone beside you. Together, we burn away what's left of the money that tied your hands. I try to understand those kinds of scars. I wonder what form they will take if I lace them with my own. The rye whiskey burns my throat with precision. One of the last few reminders of my apocalyptically classy past.

I will miss being strung out on a wire.


I've never been careful about the words I use, but a part of me hopes that this time I will remember the details and their differences. I'm at a Kroger with firm possession of the thriftiest resolve I've ever embraced. My anti-establishment traveling companion is still teaching me how to use words like "esoteric" and "toke" while spending less on three days of groceries than I spend of half of a drink on a Tuesday night.

We both find enough money for condoms.

I'm taking on a renewed sense of physical preservation, I've decided. Perhaps my angels abide there, still. I wonder if they'll dance with my demons this time.
"Don't deny yourself the joy of being away from someone long enough to miss them," Mac croons from the passenger seat, rolling something in -between his fingertips. I sit in the backseat some would call nowhere and call it home. I return to a place I've never been in the same way twice. I wonder about my wings and weight.

I will learn balance, I decide.
I don't respect balance, I know.


If I were balanced, I would still be in an empty country club long after it had closed its doors, with deadlines to pretend I cared about meeting, and calls to strangers that I hadn't yet checked off of a "to-do" list that someone else wrote.

Leap and the net will appear.

My checkmarks have always been backwards, anyway.

-Excerpt and written account from "Chasing Change: A Cross Country Memoir"

By: Alyssa Hanson