I remember Florida, the brilliant blue sky, the beach, the shells…and I hold onto this tiny bowl of my childhood, a piece of the past that I can cradle in my hand. Oh, it takes me back. The way the tide swept you down among giant, terrible clams–oh, sure, nobody wanted to be the one stuck in the clam, but oh how we laughed when it was one of the Clapham brothers.
But mostly, I remembered Jessica.
How she smiled, her dark tan, how her hair was swept up in a column of spinning sand and ocean foam. You think those sandfoamnadoes would have made the walks a little less romantic, and they did. I guess it’s a blessing of a sort that we met on the beach in 2004, because in aught-five they passed the ordanances, Â and that, as you might say, was the end of that. But it was a magical summer.
Really, thinking on it, I’m not altogether sure I remember much of anything except the huge amount of sand that managed to find its way up my shorts–the sand, and Jessica.
Goodwill near Anderson Mill on 183, Austin
One Response to “Hazy Florida Memories…”
Sex on the beach leaves rubbed raw genitals and is more uncomfortable than the movies would have you believe.