Me and Bob

I committed to post once a week on Sundays, but I don't really have anything to say tonight, so I'm posting something old. I wrote this a week or two before school let out. Lake Bob is the retaining pond behind my dorm.
I post this expecting readers to understand a couple things. First, it's a bit dramatic because it makes for a more fun piece to write. Second, I promise you don't have to worry about me. It's just a bit of reflection.
With that explanation, proceed with caution. :)

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She remembered standing on the edge of the ocean on a stormy night. “Wait,” she had put her hand out and stopped her friend, “I want to show you something.” “Okay,” her friend was confused, but willing. The girl had closed her eyes, faced the ocean, and tilted her face toward the sky. The constant roar of the waves drowned out all else. Such power – she couldn’t even comprehend it.
Bob was a poor substitute for the ocean, to put it kindly. In fact, Lake Bob was even a poor substitute for a lake. But on this night, with emotions raging wild and mind threatening to go kaput, anything would be better than the lights and noise inside. Even Bob.
She trudged out to the lake in silence, feeling moisture creep into her shoes from the wet grass. She stopped at the path surrounding the lake and stood quietly staring at the little body of water. She took a deep breath and waited. Ah, yes… she could feel her emotions responding to the quietness of the night. Slowing, slowing… it was good to be able to hear herself think again.
 So maybe Bob wasn’t all that magnificent, but he was certainly calming. In the darkness, she could ignore the scum clinging to his edges, and the geese had long gone to bed. Yes, she did owe a debt of gratitude to Bob, regardless of his status as a retaining pond. He listened quietly when she needed to vent and didn’t try to offer vain solutions when she cried. She had many times come out at night to sit beside humble Bob until her soul became quiet again.
 The girl dropped her head back. It was a clear night. She glanced back at Bob, gently reflecting the college lights on his dark surface. Hmm. She crept closer to the edge of the lake until she just toed the edge, and peered in. The moon and stars gently projected wavering ghosts of themselves onto his smooth, dark face. He looked so much deeper at night.
She leaned back on her heals and gazed at Lake Bob thoughtfully. She suddenly felt a bit of sympathy for his existence. Maybe they weren’t all that different, she and this scummy, old retaining pond. Both were small and unimpressive. Neither were terribly attractive in their nature when exposed to the bright light of midday. Both had collected a good deal of scum around the edges, and no one really knew what lay beneath their shallow, and yet somehow still impenetrable, depths. Both were filled with a good deal of gunk collected off the streets. But somehow, both were still able to fulfill some purpose, and maybe even hold a bit of beauty, if one knew where to look for it.
She knew that feeling of grime and shame; that wondering what role such a pitiful existence could play. She craned her neck to see the stars reflected in this pathetic little lake.
“And somehow, when we are alone and still,” she said quietly, “Even us, my friend, can reflect the magnificence above us.”
And maybe, this simple ability of reflection, kept this quiet, little existence from being so miserable and useless after all.