got into a ride long enough to where he felt he reached the point of a familiar relaxation with the help of his endorphins. This dropped him into his spot of similar creation. When he sits back to take a second he realizes he wrote a song. “I’m gonna call it, “Endorphin Height.” Miller sits there lining out what it takes to reach that height, then he thought he could write his first song.
He knew he needed to maybe stop by the doctor scientist’s office for the moneymaking opportunity after all for the purchase of instruments he will need. So he writes a note on the receipt in his pocket with a pen he now carries so he doesn’t miss the opportunity to write something down. “Dear Scientist,” he writes, “gonna need to stop by in the middle of the week at your time you told me to start helping you. See you then. Miller.” He thought, “That will do.” Then he notices a stick on the ground.
Miller picks it up and realizes something. This piece was partially in the water and looked like it had been there for a while. This had a weathering effect on the wood so he places the piece he is going to use out to dry when he returns. Miller feels rested enough to make the ride back, and stop by the mailbox.
When he drops it off he notices a girl going into the building he followed Fredward Sampson into. Miller didn’t take long to get home, and when he did he tried to write out the song he thought of during his ride. This was a wild thing for Miller because he really liked it, and thought he was good at it. “I need to write some more.”
Graduation finally came for Miller, and he was sure he was going to miss his day to day routine at the school. Unlike some students Miller enjoyed going to the school he went to. But since it was over Miller road to his favorite spot in the wooded trail. He went to the stick he pulled out of the water so it could dry. And it was dry enough for him to work on. He thought of a few ways to make what he needed. He enjoyed smoking his cannabis out of the little paper sheets he can get at the gas station, but he wanted to make something that was reusable. He looked it over and came up with what he was going to do. “Yeah, that’s it.”
Miller got out a pocketknife he sometimes carries, and the small drill bit he also knew he would need. The drill bit, because of its holder it can be synched in, could be used by hand. The drill was in two pieces, one part clamped to the drill bit of choice while the other was the drill bit of choice. Miller got the piece he wanted to work with. Now that it was dry he thought he could drill out the middle of the piece of wood. That is what he did all the way to the other end. Instead of puncturing through he left the other end on. He put the drill bit back into his pocket, and got out his pocketknife. With the blade he made a small hole in the end he didn’t drill through. He had it something other than paper to smoke his cannabis through. The device would allow him to pack it full of cannabis, and every time he needed to smoke some he could push more to the tip.
Miller pulled two rubber caps he found that would fit over each tip to keep down odor, and keep the cannabis from falling out.
When Miller was supposed to be over at the water treatment plant for his first days work he was eventually met by Fredward. “How have you been?” Was the first thing Fredward said to Miller, “Great, graduated high school and enjoying it.” They followed along each other to the laboratory room.
Miller was introduced to the girl he had seen when walking into the lab at the water treatment plant that day. “Miller, I want to introduce you to Anastasia. She will be working in the lab with us now that you will be here to. Miller is not an agency member he is just my under study for the summer.” Fredward moved Miller to the area he would be working in. Miller was going to be tending to the plants for Fredward.
After the first day Miller decided to go for a ride before heading home. During this ride he was again searching for a sound, a song. He went to the pond of the park. He sat on the bank. When he looked across the pond there happened to be a doe deer sitting on the other bank across from him in the tall grass along that side. He noticed her turning her head occasionally. Miller watched for a while, and then decided to hit the trail for a little while. He went back to his spot on the trails by the creek.
Nothing really came to him, but the peace he felt at that spot. When Miller got home he ate with his family, and after dinner he went to sleep.
The next morning he rolled a very round paper cigarette of cannabis. When he knew he couldn’t be bothered he struck a light, and began his morning ensemble of orange juice, and the cannobial fodder of smoke. “Cannobial Fodder.” Miller thought this could be a song. The first drag was lift off, a great place to be. Miller enjoyed every drag off of this roll. He had the principal right he felt the desire to do so. So he did.
Miller made a quick ride to the island he inhabits in the wooded area of water. The ride to the trails, did interest him in that it looked as if they where constructing on the water-treatment side of the plant. Miller had brought a small pad with him to write on. A pencil is what he likes to write with he uses the one he found in the garage that is smaller than half the size of a regular pencil. It fits easier in his pocket. He doesn’t think he lets the area inhabit him, and then he starts. The water was all that he wrote about, but not in the way that you would know it is water. He wrote about the principal of water. After reading the lyrics to himself, he thought that would be the name of the song, “Principal of Water.” This caused his curiosity to steer towards something he wanted to try. Surfing. This only meant to seem like it needed to happen. Miller’s curiosity with water stay’s the same always awesome to him.
The thought of a concert at a lake hits and Miller, “Gets Height.” To write out after writing more. Then he writes, “Endorphin Height.” Staying at height, Miller takes to his bike for a break in the shade of the sun. He makes his way through the trails leaving dust up for the air to take care of. Then back to finish. The height he was at was what it would take to get the song to complete at the water spot.
It was done. His first song he was ready to try and sing adding the kind of percussion that would follow through. The area of water he was sitting along happened to have flow feature that trickled down some rocks. Miller decides to give singing a whack. He wasn’t worried about sounding good it only made since to sing it like he wrote it. When it came out it didn’t seem that hard. Listening to the surroundings did make it easier he realized realizing that instruments will help. He picked up a down limb, and continued singing the song he wrote as he listened to the beat of that part of the trails adding his own percussion of limb on a log. It was easier carrying on a beat with the limb he was tapping the log with as he listened to the sound of the water. Which made the connection with how he sang the words he was singing.
For Miller, that was fantastic and would probably lead to other music. This leads to, “Tropical Ecstasy.” He would need to get back, and on his way passing the water treatment plant he saw the girl who began around the time he did as well. She caught his attention and she stopped when she noticed him riding by. Something happened immediately between them, and Miller decided to pursue the notion that she was seeming open to further pursuance. So Miller waved, and she did as well, but for him to come on in. When he did she asked him to help her in the lab. Miller left after helping, to get home. It had been a longer trip to the trails than usual because when they were done with the task the older girl started to make Miller pay more attention to her by talking closer to him and brushing up against him. Then she moved her waste band revealing another band. Miller smiled and she did. Then following that she opened her shirt so he could see her under wear. Miller leaned in too. When he looked up at her she grabbed the back of his head. The majority of that late afternoon led to an evening in the closet that was near by. What had happened wouldn’t need to be talked about, and wouldn’t be the last time it would happen.
Miller was glad to eat the food left over on the stove when he got home. He hadn’t been that hungry since the last time he rode the entire trail, twice. It was good, and had a conversation with his sister when she turned the corner.
