Sedgewick Randolph Speirling

A character developed from 20 traits of a tin of Rosebud Salve

I understand why poets use water as their inspiration. Matt Arnold is one I really remember, with his dissatisfaction in humanity compared to his lover, all found in the calmness of the sea and the shimmer of the moon. Tonight, despite the reflection of the moon shimmering more than it probably should, I too appreciate it as lovely.

I never came out to this bridge enough in my youth. Now I’m old and grouchy and don’t have a chick to make out with. I take another swig from my flask.

“Why did I never do THIS before?” I drunkenly groan at both of the moons, the real one above and her reflection below.

I’ve never been one for alcohol; my father was an alcoholic. He’s messed me up more than he knew. What’s funny is that I’m not even that drunk. One thing for sure, that old man could manage his liquor.

I’m observing myself from my mind’s eye as I take swig after swig, each one bringing me closer too…

Why did the war not take me? So very many others went but not I. The speakeasy doctor. The worthless piece of trash with no family of which to speak, past or present. The one operating behind the lines and yet keeping them going, moving forward. I should have died.

“Fucking government,” I hear myself mutter.

Down the hatch it goes. Watching, I realize just how fruitless this getting drunk thing is.

I squint and St. Louis is perfect, just the way I remembered it to have looked. Just the way it was before everything else. It’s practical for the end to be so much like the beginning.

The water rushes soundlessly below me. Only in these times of utter despair do I remember myself. So surrounded am I by the problems of others that I often forget who I am. Busted up cops, friends, Germans… This is who I am now. All of it and the contents of this tiny flax I’m putting down easily, calmly. I look around to realize that I’ve sat down.

With effort, my past pushes me up and over the polite wall I’ve created, but which is, in reality, a green and rust covered barrier.

I see myself falling from my mind’s eye.

Finally.

“The sea is calm tonight.”

Shut up Arnold.