Elisa's Blog
Saturday, September 17, 2005
Stinson Beach, mid-afternoon.

The white sun rays bounce perpendicular to the water making the waves look silver in a sea of molten metal.

You lie close enough next to me that your arm just barely touches mine, and for a long time we're both silent and terrifyingly immobile, you never saying what my brain screams ceaselessly inside my head in torment, and after an eternity that is somehow too short-lived, "Let's start heading back...", is all I hear you whisper.

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