The ditch didn’t exist yesterday. Then again, I didn’t exist yesterday, at least not the “I” that was standing at the edge of a ragged ditch stretching from three feet to my left up the dunes into the trees. Right. Everything Changes. I knew that part. But a ditch doesn’t just become a ditch overnight.
Sam came up behind me.
“That ditch wasn’t there yesterday.”
He bent over the edge, looking into it as if the answer to its birth would be gazing up at him from its bottom.
“Well, how did it get there? Who dug it?”
“Everything Changes,” I said, knowing that I might as well just have said “Your mama’s so fat….”
“Don’t give me that crap. A ditch doesn’t just become a ditch overnight.”
Excellent. Something we could agree on out here in the middle of nothing at the end of nowhere. Sam and I had come out here so he could ‘find’ himself. And the first thing we found was a ditch.