They never are

He saw the water in the rowing wheel of the stationary rower two steps into the hotel gym. Water that sat at the bottom of the fly wheel that provided the friction for when you rowed. Interesting, unique, intriguing some might say, but not Carl. No siree. Not even close. To Carl it was a dange. His first thought of how long had that water been in there. What kind of bacteria was breeding in threes, what kind of mold spores were evolving, looking for a way out. What if he were rowing and some of that water splashed out, splashed on his skin, his face, his lips, his tounge. What sort of slow agonizing death would occur, what moss would grow around his brain stem slowly muting the signals to his organs who begin the slow march of shutting down after the signals from the brain grow quite then silent,how could this possibly be considered safe? DANGER!!

Do you like coming up here his wife asked when the adults had gone to bed. “It’s nice to get off the city”he said half believing this was true for him”. “No,” she said, “I meN seeing L&T”. “Of course” he answered. That part was true, but cottage life. Hiking in the woods when the neibours only last week had a rattlesnake at the top of their drive. Stuck on a boat, wet, cold, no washroom, dog walking ahead down the curved gravel roads worried a car will careen around a blind corner and knock him dead or worse, injure him to the point that we would have to put him out of his misery. Where, sometimes at night, he gets tired of conversation, where for some reason, unbounded to him he just wants to escape, and starts by quietly withdrawing, by closing down contributions to conversation, by listening more than speaking, by counting the minutes till everyone says goodnight, by worrying about dangers of tomorrow’s activities being proposed tonight, secretly hoping they may be forgotten in the morning, knowing they never are.