A short story written in Spain // "In this sea of many, I know you, and you know me."
In any given language or speech, where one line ends and before another begins, a breath must take place. A comma. A pause in the voices singing.
As a child, I used to run into the arms of boundless ocean blue, spending hours enjoying her peace. A lot like grace, she is kind, consuming, tangible. My childhood friend.
We packed our things into the car and headed west along the coast. It was 9:30pm - golden hour. My favourite time of day.
Our lives chiseled and unpolished, we are established, but evolving still. Beautiful, unpredictable, worthy of a little wonder.