The sand all in my hair and the nape of my neck and in my toes giving that nostalgia of a couple of hours back. Lying in the ocean, periodically under and out of the sickly saline waters, staring up at the rising half moon, the soft cloud stubs that make shapes, and the burning humanity jamming out at far distance.
Now, the clapping of waves dominates the senses tonight. 0000hrs. Sounds of distant thunder do make you tingle in anticipation, but you know it wouldn't show up. A half moon brings some details to relief - like the shoreline, the ridges, and the tiny pebbles at the shore left behind now that the ocean has receded over the course of night.
My thoughts as tiny as those pebbles make it to the conscious. A muteness pervades - one that you get after a jump, bad T-rush, good fish. Oh how gladly I transmitted my head-load of thought/trash at a panicked pace to when over the phone with Anu and Ghoru (they must be thinking I'd just had sex).
//20101114
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