Mordechai Stone

I worked on South Padre Island, TX for 18 months. From my third floor condo I could look west across the bay and see the sun set on the mainland then turn east and see waves from the Gulf of Mexico roll onto the beach of the longest barrier island in the world. Every night I managed a large bar/restaurant literally hanging over the bay. Anytime the moon rose the reflected light shimmered on the still waters of the bay like broken glass on an undulating carpet of black velvet.

Fiery sunsets, still moonlit nights, crashing surf…paradise. Most days I forgot to look.

The last few weeks we’ve had rain and high winds in the LA valley. The sky cleared of haze. But it took a friend to point out how majestic the mountains looked in the distance. I never even looked up.

I have yet to leave the house today. I have to leave the house to look up. I have to remind myself to look up to see the beauty.

Now I torture myself with the loss of memories I’ll never have because for decades I’ve walked around, head down, thoughts misplaced, missing…The View.

I am assaulted by fear. It paralyzes me. If by chance the sudden assault happens while I am away from home I cement a smile to my face to hide my dread while longing to return to my sanctuary.

Some days the fear is so overwhelming I can only find refuge in darkness, sleep. I retreat to my bedroom. I mask the eerie silence of my safe place with the artificial sound of a rainstorm. I climb in bed and pull the covers to my chin. I block out the dim light of a city night with a dark shirt placed carefully over my eyes. But my bedroom is too large, it contains too many hiding places for scary monsters. So I retreat to my closet.

I lay out blankets and towels to separate my naked body from the dirty carpet. I cover myself with jackets, blankets and sheets before pulling the closet door shut. I can hear the sound of the recorded storm. A sudden crack of thunder brings me peace.

I rest in the darkness secure in my safe place…

My tomb.