Sunday, June 28, 2015


The sun is setting as I make my way along the beach. There are no more people in the ocean, but I still see them on the beach. I see them laughing, kicking up sand as they play volleyball, even though it’s getting harder and harder to see the ball. Another group is starting a bonfire. I zip up my hoodie as I feel a chill run down my back and get back to my task. I lean down and pick up rocks. That’s what I do every day. It may seem mundane, but I have my ways of keeping it interesting. Today, I’m only picking black rocks. You’d be surprised at how different the rocks can be from day to day. Yesterday I managed to pick up about fifty rust-colored ones, while Wednesday I gathered a whole bunch of smooth ones. Now there are a whole lot more reddish ones than yesterday, but I’m still not complaining, since I already have plenty of black ones.

The sun plunges into the sea in one, final, swift motion. The lanterns on the promenade light up. I listen to the songs coming from the group at the bonfire. Summer is here. Finally.

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