fastbirds
last night we drove to the end of the state (end of the country, even. maybe end of the world?) in the middle of the night, and drank champagne on the beach after driving a little too fast. it was too cold to sleep on the sand under stars, so i watched the constellations move across the bowl of sky and then i walked and walked and walked until i reached the beach's ghost town of deserted restaurants called things like seaside sammy's and stores that make a fortune selling airbrushed seashell kitsch. but everything was closed and somber at 5 in the morning, save for the cats prowling the alleys and mini-golf course. when the sun began to rise the water turned turquoise and the waves turned pink and we swam in makeshift bathing suits and jumped over waves and laughed a lot.
(i was wondering, though, why wilmington is comprised entirely of churches.)
(i was wondering, though, why wilmington is comprised entirely of churches.)