Bonnie and Clyde Files 47 (Book Launch Week!)

(Friends: this week marks the launch for the sale of my forthcoming book, The Bonnie and Clyde Files: How Two Senior Saved a Middle Aged Man. Only 300 copies will be sold and it won’t be available in book stores. For more information and how to order, got to nestuccaspitpress.com or order here from the blog. Half of the profits are earmarked for the Angels for Sara Sanctuary to continue their excellent work. Please support me in this new editorial endeavor as I get back in the game of life, literature and service. Below is an excerpt from the book.)

I stood at the edge of the river on a Tuesday morning. Bonnie and Clyde stood beside me. Showers showered. Heavy rain had fallen all night and the current was swift and the water cloudy.

Cloudy. That wasn’t the right scientific word for it. Murky? No, that was too mysterious, too noir. What was the word?

Does one need a jargon to understand a river or a person’s life? Scientists and therapists do. I don’t.

Turbidity! The word returned to me from my former life as a watershed council coordinator and water quality monitoring volunteer.

The river was turbid. It dawned upon me that right now, everything about my life is turbid. My future is turbid. Many people view me as turbidity in their lives.

When will my life become clear? Perhaps never after this. Perpetual turbidity?

If someone jumps into the river of this life with me, would that create more turbidity.? According to science, it would. I think not, however. I think it would stir up crystal clear waters.

I looked at Bonnie and Clyde’s old eyes. They were turbid. They reminded me of Sonny’s dying eyes. I looked at the river for a reflection. Nothing was there.

There’s actually a rating system for turbidity in the water. It measures particles or something. I had a little hand held machine that gave me a reading when I was testing the waters.

Testing the waters is an interesting phrase. It moves in many metaphorical directions.

I don’t have the ability to test any waters. I don’t have a machine to read my level of turbidity.

It stopped showering. I stroked the wet heads of Bonnie and Clyde and watched the river.