Thin slice of morning light through the curtain.

Getting dressed in the dark.

The coffee is weak. We wait for him to wake so we can find something better.

Unexpectedly charming. Next time, we will spend more time here.

Hot sand.

The water is so cold.

I eat a pb & j. It brings me delight. I haven’t had one in at least ten years. I push the bread off the roof of my mouth with my tongue and stare out towards the water.

Time has slowed down.

I watch the waves, try to read the water, try to remember what its movements mean.

This is why I came here.

There is still so much fear. I don’t want to feel that anymore.

He wants to stay. I say that there isn’t time; he has more baseball and I have so much work to do. “Isn’t that what vacation days are for?” he asks. “It just doesn’t always work out that way,” I reply as he turns away.

Dinner cobbled together. Just enough to feel satisfied.

There is much work to be done. I try not to think about it.