Nonfiction
The Bear Spray Incident
or ‘How To Be Utterly Unimpressive in This Great Majestic World’
It was the summer of 2016; I was twenty.
Working in the seclusion of the great Rocky Mountains, out of cellular range, with spotty satellite signal directly on premises only, sharing a shoebox of a room, often intoxicated, incredibly yet covertly awkward around the others— I was in an adventurous spirit!
An unwisely adventurous spirit.
They were different times, I was younger, and experimenting with shutting down certain feelings on command, such as fear. I would simply imagine them as a file you could .zip and store deep at the back of your mind; it has since become an archaic system.
It improved my night walking experience ten-fold, but then I’m also fortunate still to have night walks.
I hadn’t yet learned to appreciate life; many short-sighted and unnecessary risks were taken.
Not A Plan
I was wrong to get involved.
I wasn’t involved in the planning, or set to join the party until hours after everyone left, and wouldn’t be able to contact anyone upon leaving the resort.
