April 17, 2022
I am tracing a finger over the map in my mind, searching for some specific scene where the beachgrass bends inward and meets in the middle where your legs stand still, stuck ankle deep in sand that, sometimes, seems to keep on rising, but if and when you do pull free, there is a town waiting on the other side of the water, where the ferry runs back and forth, dutifully, all day, so that you could, if you wanted to, spend several summer hours sitting on the small, slow ship, wondering which shore you’ll be left on when the sun sets.
