The Man Who Leaked His Love
The untold story of Jeremiah John
I met Jeremiah John on a bench by the Dragon Tree, south of Son Servera. It was late August, and the Bunting Bird was getting ready to go.
Jeremiah was born an ocean, with the world’s knowledge floating within, and we set sail that same afternoon to cross the horizon before midnight.
We were sailors in a wet bar, and Jeremiah entertained the crowd with his tales of the ancient. He’d seen mountains rise past the earth’s surface and held hands with rivers as they carved scars in the dirt on their way home. He’d witness the moon kneel to the setting sun before it ripped the tide from the shore.
Jeremiah John was human by blood and native by soul, and the power vested in him was from God alone. He spoke in nature’s tongue and roamed freely among its creatures, and his love was unconditional and unforgiving.
‘Set sail, my brothers, set sail, my love’, he called from the top of a table, and the drunken crowd cheered. We were warriors back then, unexplored and unconquered, sworn never to give up.
I left at sunrise. Intoxicated by the fumes of the crowd, hopelessly in love with the scent of the early morning, I took the long way home, down the beach and the trail leading past the lighthouse. God’s church was quiet as the…
