At the Lost and Found

The sunset was most beautiful at this time of year as it lowered itself under the horizon in the far off reaches of the ocean.  The sea was a rich array of vibrant colors; royal blue, purple, orange, and yellow-interwoven as a fine tapestry of nature’s quilt.  A kiss at sunset is a magical moment and to share it in a long, warm embrace as the sun said goodnight was most inviting.  The girls dreamed of getting lost from the cares of this world in a tropical paradise.  They never knew a love so true could be found in a place where they never dreamed of being.

Claire remembers the long bus ride from her North Carolina home just outside Raleigh to Seattle, Washington.  She had just broken up with her on again, off again boyfriend Chad.  He was the lead guitarist for this hard rock band called the Atomic Bong.  They started off in one of these activist Earth First type groups responsible for chaining themselves together in front of the Capital Building and the Governor’s Mansion in downtown Raleigh.  The eclectic group of 18-20 somethings; mostly from the local colleges like State, Central, or Duke would coordinate with Greenpeace and the Green First Alliance at the start of every week on Moral Monday.  The Shearon Harris Nuclear Plant 20 miles outside of Raleigh were the site of intense protest and demonstrations against nuclear energy.

In May 2013 there was an unplanned shutdown.  Duke Energy, the owners of the plant claimed there was no immediate threat of radiation leakage, however who could trust the paid corporate media puppets.  The group protested intensely by staging a sit-in at the Legislative Building; the police presence was strong with the use of tear gas and over 50 people being arrested.

Claire and Chad were the first to organize a love-in and smoke-out on the lawn of the Capital Building; drawing from the Woodstock era, however with Elmo chicks and the LGBT community prevalent in a purple haze of Cannabis Indica.  Claire and Chad had the chance encounter of toking it up with the Hemperor himself, Jack Herer during one of his visits to the Triangle for the pro-Hemp cause.  The Triangle was the perfect landscape for the growing movement; along with young entrepreneurs, transplants from California, and the close proximity to many colleges-not to mention Asheville, North Carolina

Empty Ben and Jerry containers would be strewn all over the lawn after one of these love-ins; if only they had the balls to make Hemp ice cream.  Chad had petitioned the founders to name it ‘Hempster;’ with a nutty, vanilla-fudge swirl.  As with many young free thinkers, Ron Paul and Bernie Sanders supporters included-the Libertarian and Social Change blood flowed freely through their veins and the world was the new stage for these rising anti-Establishment Generation Z crowds.  End the Fed and Feel the Bern became the new mottos in this ever-changing dynamic landscape.

Claire remembers her mother saying to her, “why don’t you find yourself a young Republican business student who is a regular church goer and voted for GW.”  She did attend church, however she was not your typical ‘churchy’ girl and her unorthodox taste in music, men, and women would not exactly sit right with her mom.  Her mother always attended church every Sunday and would be at every League of Conservative Women’s Voters meeting held at the local Baptist church in Garner.  She was the equivalent of the hipster soccer mom version of the SNL ‘Church Lady.’

Sure Claire loved the music of Scotty McCreery and his rendition of Gone, however just because he came out of Garner, North Carolina was no reason for her to become an awestruck groupie fan of his.  Sure he was a stud-that high school Carolina southern boy in blue jeans and a tight fitting polo she would see all over the North Carolina State Fair every October.  She loved the abs on these guys and the smell of McGraw cologne as they passed her by; causing her inner goddess to jump-dreaming of riding a wild stallion bareback through a crowd of wide-eyed onlookers.  Her other fantasy involved having sex on the very top of the Ferris wheel; she had already stripped on one occasion during a night run when the fair was near closing-finishing off her date of the evening with a snowball.  She had known the heavy-set carnie since middle school and had paid him extra; enough for some blow so he could keep the ride unoccupied and going for several rounds.  She was a looker and giving the drug addicted carny a show was an added turn-on for a young exhibitionist in training like herself.

She had dreams-wicked as they were, but what’s a broken angel to do in the midst of inner turmoil and global calamity of which she had no control over, aside from the organized excuse to peacefully raise hell, get high, and make love in peaceful protest in an orgy of change.

She loved the motto of the Revolution since Love was in the middle of it all-as if looking directly at the mirror of one’s soul.  Her kindred spirit-once lost; but now found in this tropical paradise in the arms of her new Filipino lover, Angelica.

As she embraced the dusk in the cool breeze on the warm, white sands of Island Cove; the hint of mango and musk mixed together intoxicated her so.  Claire’s face was pressed hard against her lover’s chest; as she breathed in heavily, savoring every rich scent.  Ellie Goulding’s song kept playing in her head, as if in a pot daze-“Gotta hold me tight, won’t put up a fight, of course I’ll stay, I’ll stay the night…We’re at the lost and found.”

“What are you thinking about love?” Angelica says softly into Claire’s ear. She could only smile ever so slightly as she sang, “tonight, nothing will bring us down, tonight, yeah; we’re at the lost and found.”  Angelica kisses her deeply as she presses tightly into her, collapsing onto the wet sand together as the tide washes all around them; lapping at their feet.

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