Brett Rants

Seaside Rendezvous

Nothing goes as expected.

Where was this, somewhere on the West Coast, up aways from Frisco, down a ways from the Oregon border, where a river meets the sea, the perfect place to put a phone booth, I guess folks had reason to congregate there

A day at the beach. Simple enough. 'We'll meet at the phone booth,' she said.

On the Delta, if I remember, so a good days drive from the previous, still, a nice little throw back, its a diner, view inside, the counter turned red from age, or maybe thats a filter, doing its thing, moving away from reality, as it does

Of course, when the call came in, the plans had changed, 'We're all at the cafe, just now. Why don't you come join us?'

The beach in full bloom, algae bloom, some toxic spill, or likely as not, some other filter, given the greenish sand a pinkish hue, the further away, all behind a wood fence, caution, something about falling off the cliff, better grab hold of what little reality is left

Which is just as well, as the tide had come and gone and the beach was no longer a place fit to swim... let alone, build castles in the sand.

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Which doesn't mean it wasn't the perfect locale for a bonfire later that night. All in all (nasty hangover included), I'd have to say, I'd do it again.

© copyright 2017 Brett Paufler
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