a dear friend

What does it mean to be alive? cries this flood of blood rushing through my veins and troughs of thoughts rushing through my mind. Don't you feel overwhelmed by the immensity of the world? says a small blip sitting wrapped in a borrowed blanket on the beach of a borrowed city.

Twilight is the time to spy upon the shore. Dolphins often flit by, off to I am not sure where. Blessed souls brave the sunset soaked sea, and emerge into the brisk air, making a mad dash for their towels. Parking spots empty out and dinners are shared over roses, belly laughs and a candlelight that flickers, dancing in the waning light and waxing wind. I don’t know a thing about birds, but some fly by, hugging the water as if it were a dear friend they could not bear to be far from. The sea shimmers in the light of the moon and it is so beautiful I might cry. The day drifts away and I run into the sea.